Where we began
by CarsGirlsandMusic
Summary: Based on the song by Christina Novelli. At the age of thirty, the last thing Spencer expected was for her life to fall apart like this. The last thing Ashley expected was that she'd be called a hero.
1. Denial

**A/N: This is not the rom-com I'd been telling you guys about, it's just a small fic, will probably only have five or at most six chapters. It's heavy, but at least Spashley is in it** ** _together_** **. Kindof had to get this out so I can concentrate fully on** ** _Ghost_** **again.**

* * *

 **Denial**

It came as a shock to everyone who'd ever had the opportunity to meet them. Spencer thought it was an April Fool's joke – she _wished_ it was an April Fool's joke. She'd even forgive Glen – _and her parents_ – for the unnecessary expenses of flight tickets and hotel bookings to get to LA first thing in the morning, after the disturbing 1AM phone call.

Perhaps they just really missed her, and a prank of this magnitude was the only way to get her home, even if it was just for a weekend.

"Are you nervous?"

Spencer tried to remain calm with a dismissive shake of her head, tried to slump her shoulders and relax into the comfortable business class seats of Wandering Airlines, but her stormy blue eyes gave her away.

After thirteen years together, Ashley Davies knew her wife better than she knew herself. When Spencer turned to face her, her heart ached in an agonizing way she'd only felt thrice before; when her father passed away, when Clay passed away, and when Spencer broke up with her start of senior year.

Anxiety was radiating off of Spencer in waves. Her eyes were unsettled and it just accentuated the dark, puffy lines underneath, breaking through layers of concealer just like the pain broke through layers of bravery and forced smiles.

Ashley reached over the armrest console between their seats, her heart skipping a beat as Spencer's arm lifted automatically, their hands meeting in the middle, fingers intertwining tightly. It was the tiniest thing, but she couldn't help but treasure these little unspoken harmonized movements, where their minds and limbs were on par with each other's. It happened so often that they mostly took it for granted. But on behalf of Spencer, she started drawing these things from her sub-conscience to full awareness, knowing her wife needed to know now more than ever that she was there for her.

After thirteen years together, Ashley also knew Spencer's insecurities – there weren't many, Spencer was one of the bravest people she's ever met – but in light of what was happening, she had an inkling that one particular self-doubt would resurface.

"No matter what happens, I'm here for you, okay?" Ashley offered supportively.

Spencer couldn't help herself; it was either Ashley's hand or an embarrassing, uncontrollable tightness in her chest. She squeezed incredibly hard, reminding herself to take deep breaths despite how much it hurt. Having a panic attack while they were thirty-five thousand feet up in the air was not going to help her situation.

When Ashley clutched even tighter, Spencer closed her eyes and released a shaky breath, praying that the tears would ease up on her for at least the duration of their flight. They'd _just_ reached the standard cruising altitude, leaving them with another two hours and fifteen minutes before the comfort of Seattle was far behind and despair would suffocate them like Los Angeles smog.

"Can I get you ladies anything to drink?"

Ashley shot a quick glance to Spencer, who was still holding onto her hand for dear life, unable to open her eyes – she _knew_ they were filled with tears – and smiled tight-lipped at the flight attendant, her own voice cracking as she spoke.

"Yeah, just some water. And a paper bag?"

She watched carefully as the older woman's eyes focused on Spencer, and by the look of sympathy on the flight attendant's face, Ashley wished more than anything that her wife's current state _was_ just a case of Aviophobia. But she didn't correct her. This wasn't anyone's business but their own.

"Coming right up." The flight attendant smiled, and reached into the beverage cart, retrieving two chilled bottles of Evian. She whispered something to her colleague at the back end of the cart, and within seconds the requested items were handed over.

"Thank you." Ashley waited until they moved on before her thumb brushed over white knuckles and gave Spencer's hand a gentle squeeze.

Spencer opened her eyes, gratitude sparkling behind pained tears. She took in brown eyes that reflected her own sorrow, a wavering smile, and a hand still holding on to hers. It was impossible to compare the grown up Ashley to the youthful, scared girl who ran whenever things got too hard. Just thinking about it flared up insecurities she'd thought she'd buried a long time ago.

"Breathe, Spence. Don't assume the worst, okay? You're going to wear yourself out before we even get there."

Ashley's usual raspy voice was firm notwithstanding the deep concern that lay right beneath. It was a comforting sign that her wife was prepared to be strong for both of them. Spencer knew she was already at breakpoint, and they didn't even know the full truth yet. Part of her was desperately clinging to the idea that this was all a prank, that they would land in Los Angeles, grab an _Uber_ to the Carlin house, and her family would yell out _surprise_ when she opened the front door. The other part of her recognized the urgency in her brother's voice despite their drifting siblinghood over the years. It was _that_ part that had her in such a frenzied state.

"I can't do this," Spencer admitted in a whispered fluster, her eyes begging Ashley to take away the fear and pain that resided within her. Her gaze dropped as fingernails dug deep into skin that wasn't hers, frantically trying to channel the panic into her hand instead of her chest.

"Spence, look at me." Ashley's resolve to be firm was about to crumble when she saw the despair in blue eyes of a soul that was never meant to be crushed like this. It was a vow she made on their wedding day, and she knew it was impossible to control – some things were just out of her hands – but she'd do anything to take this pain away. She ignored the waning crescent indents forming on the side of her palm and the sting that came with it, her concern more to keep an impending panic attack at bay.

Her free hand pushed into the flattened small white paper bag still on her lap, separating the sides, and in a swift move she had the opening pressed against her wife's mouth. Spencer was already flushed, her breaths becoming ragged as she overcompensated for the decreased level of carbon dioxide intake due to their altitude.

" _Breathe_ ," Ashley demanded softly. She forced _herself_ to take deep breaths, her chest visibly rising and falling for Spencer to see. Though the panic attacks weren't a frequent occurrence, Ashley was thankful for the handful of times it happened on ground level. She would have freaked out if it had to happen for the first time so high up in the air.

She took note of a once vibrant complexion turned completely pale, and the slight tremble accompanying the other evident symptoms of a condition Spencer was deeply embarrassed about. They only found out two years later – after the school shooting which took Clay's life – that things occasionally got way too much for her beloved blonde. The long intervals between attacks just attested to how strong her wife was, and Ashley couldn't help but be proud that Spencer was always so brave to take whatever came her way head-on.

Spencer's shaking body wasn't only because of the panic attack; she swallowed rapidly and continuously to keep the sobs from escaping her throat as Ashley eased her out of the attack. She absolutely hated her mind and body for betraying her – for making her lose control. She prided herself in being a strong person; it was one of the things that made Ashley fall in love with her to start with. But sometimes fear got the better of her, and she wondered – _irrationally_ – how long Ashley would still put up with all her baggage.

She vaguely observed as Ashley slowly removed the paper bag and let her breathe on her own. It was somewhat easier; the tightness clutching at her chest and around her heart reduced to a mild pain that was sure to leave her with an aching body for a couple of days. No matter the amount of hours she spent doing yoga and muscle-relaxing exercises, the severity of her panic attacks always left her numb and exhausted.

Spencer was secretly thankful to be exhausted. Maybe _this_ way she'd be able to get some sleep after a long night of worrying. _If_ her overactive mind would allow her to.

The solution to her predicament came in the form of a small green and yellow colored capsule-shaped pill, _fluoxetine_ , in an outstretched palm – one that _didn't_ sport four painful nail-incisions.

Lost blue met soft brown eyes, and finally a single tear escaped, trickling slowly down a pale, flushed cheek.

The world around them forgotten, Ashley closed her fingers safely around the pill and leaned over the console separating their seats, her thumb gently brushing over the wet trail of heartache. She wished for the umpteenth time that they could switch places, so she could absorb the anxiety and confusion and grief instead. Not that she thought she'd handle it any better; she just felt so helpless and _sad_ to see Spencer so broken.

"Sleep will do you good right now. I'll wake you when we're about to land, okay?"

Spencer hated this. She hated that she hadn't slept, she hated that she appeared weak, she hated having to medicate herself to have a chance at living a normal life. But looking at Ashley, at the way concern and sadness was slowly eating away at her, Spencer knew she wasn't only doing it for herself. She loved Ashley far too much to make things even worse by refusing help.

"Okay." Spencer reached out with her free hand - her left hand and Ashley's right still tightly clasped together - and opened her palm to take the pill. She smiled bravely when Ashley's face lit up, relief evident in her eyes. Tense shoulders sagged with a much needed released breath, and once the pill was safely on her tongue, Spencer felt some of her own tension drain. She took the still water from Ashley and gulped down a generous amount to quench her thirst and soothe her raw throat.

"Do you need anything? Are you cold?" Ashley asked, grateful for the privilege of flying business class. Though it wasn't considered a long flight, this particular carrier still stowed away blankets and pillows for their passengers.

Spencer's heart calmed for the first time since the dreaded phone call from Glen. She reclined her seat slightly and closed her eyes, her hand still clutching Ashley's tightly. "I've got everything I need right here."

* * *

It wasn't nearly enough rest for her overly exhausted body, but Spencer felt remarkably better when her dreamless sleep was interrupted by an angelic voice, gently urging her to wake up.

She took a deep breath, immediately engulfed by a mixture of Ashley's natural scent and the perfume she was wearing. It set her at ease to such an extent that she almost thought she was back home, just waking up from a terrible nightmare.

But as she sat up, Ashley's leather jacket snugly wrapped around her upper body, Spencer realized with a pang that they were on a plane - about to prepare for landing at LAX.

Still, the two hours of sleep - _and_ the treacherous fluoxetine - helped tremendously to keep her calm and relaxed.

"We're about to land. Did you sleep okay?" Ashley asked, eying her carefully.

Spencer offered a genuine smile and squeezed gently at the hand still holding hers. "I did, thank you, Ash."

Ashley beamed from ear to ear and leaned over to plant a soft kiss on Spencer's lips. Though she didn't sleep at all, just the fact that Spencer did - and looked less stressed - was enough to lift her own spirits. "I'm glad. Buckle up, I'm taking you for breakfast after we touched down."

"Ash, I don't think I'll be able to hold anything in," Spencer immediately protested. Not only couldn't she stomach food right now, she was more anxious to get to her childhood house and find out what was going on. The faster she got to the bottom of everything, the faster she could relax.

But Ashley was having none of it. "Spence, I know you want to get there as quick as you can. But we have no idea how today might turn out, and you need to eat. _I_ need to eat."

Spencer knew Ashley only added the last part to make her realize how important a small breakfast would be - not to make her feel bad. She'd taken medication on an empty stomach, and Ashley didn't even get a chance to drink her morning coffee in their rush to get to the airport at the crack of dawn. For both of them to stay sane, she owed this to her wife. She offered an apologetic smile and her thumb mimicked Ashley's, rubbing gently over warm knuckles.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I probably already owe you a truckload of coffee."

Ashley smiled teasingly. "Damn right, you do. The flight may have been comfortable but their coffee doesn't match the _Spencer Wake-up call Special_."

This pulled a chuckle out of Spencer, and it felt good to focus on something that didn't feel like the end of the world. "You only like it because you don't have to get out of bed to make it yourself," she teased back.

Ashley laughed, her eyes turning soft. "No, I like it because _you_ make it."

Spencer threw her hands up in defeat, the smile on her face almost enough to wipe away any trace of sadness they'd experienced just hours before. "It's the same thing!"

"No, it's not," Ashley countered, planting another soft kiss on Spencer's lips. "When _you_ make it, no matter the time of day, you add a dash of love."

Ashley's words had Spencer blush and tears welling up in her eyes again. "It's because I love you, more than you'll ever know."

"Yeah? What if I already _do_ know?" Brown eyes challenged blue.

"Then I'm making you way too much coffee."

Ashley laughed and clutched tightly onto Spencer's hand, bringing it up to her lips, leaving soft kisses over her knuckles. "I love you too, Spence."

* * *

Despite all the effort – even succeeding – to get Spencer's mind off of the reason they were visiting, all the lightness and playful bantering disappeared the moment their Uber driver put his car in _park_ , and got out to politely help them remove their luggage from the trunk.

While Spencer froze in her steps, staring at the house that held some of the best – and worst – memories of her life, Ashley took it upon herself to see the driver off.

"Are you ready?" Ashley asked softly, her hand automatically reaching towards Spencer's, holding on tight to offer all the support she possibly could.

Spencer took a deep breath. She wasn't ready. She felt safer outside with Ashley beside her, holding her hand, holding her together. She knew once she opened that front door it was like opening Pandora's Box – there was no going back. Whether her entire family was hiding behind sofas and nooks and walls, or whether there were truth in Glen's words, she'd only finally know if she took the final steps towards the door.

She still had a couple of feet to go, and without answering her wife, Spencer paused to take it all in. She wanted to commit this moment, this view, to memory, because regardless how things would go, it was how she wanted to remember it. Her gut told her things were going to change, whether she liked it or not.

She took in the classic dark facebricks making up the front facade of the homey two-story house, separated but held together by light plaster offering a beautiful contrast - if she had to get completely artsy about it. The white wooden panels making up the outside of the small foyer were oddly newly painted, surprising her somewhat. The brown, wooden front door was still exactly the same as she remembered.

That very door, underneath the small porch, held so many whispered secrets and love declarations after late night dates. Her eyes lost focus and a slight blush tinted Spencer's cheeks as she recalled the countless times Ashley had her pinned against it, and thankfully so, because her wife had a habit of making her knees go weak with her intense kisses.

She filed the memory of what happened on the _inside_ against that same door for later. _Much_ later, when she was alone with Ashley in their hotel room.

Her vivid, pleasant memories were ruined when she felt pressure on her hand. Spencer frowned, turning towards Ashley, but brown, narrowed eyes stared ahead, shooting daggers towards the door Spencer had just admired.

Spencer finally followed her wife's gaze, her palms suddenly feeling sweaty as she tried to digest what her eyes were witnessing. Somewhere, deep inside, she tried to block the information from reaching her brain. If it _did_ , it would inevitably make all of this real. She couldn't _ever_ let this become real.

"Doctor Montanio." Ashley's voice was stone cold.

Spencer was surprised that she even acknowledged and greeted him.

"Spencer, Ashley, uh, hey."

Spencer had no words. She stood frozen, in shock, her eyes following every movement Ben Montanio made; adjusting his tie with one hand while the other gripped a Thermos flask, the steam of the hot coffee inside clearly visible. He kept moving, walking up to the open double garage doors, straight to a black Rover that didn't belong there. He was on his way to work. It was 8AM, after all.

"Come on," Ashley nudged her gently, an arm now around her shoulders.

Spencer blinked several times, deliberately willing away what she had just seen. There was still a chance that they'd walk through the front door, her family waiting to jump out and yell _surprise_! What a perfectly executed, and well orchestrated April Fool's prank this wouldn't be. She was ready to be surprised, ready to shrug off all the fears that had been plaguing her mind for the past seven hours, ready to laugh about it and spend a fantastic weekend with her family.

"Mom? Dad?"

Alarm bells went off when Spencer called out to both her parents, especially after they'd just witnessed that snake of a doctor leave the Carlin house. Ashley desperately wanted to pull Spencer out of there, save her of the heartache that was sure to follow. She felt annoyed with herself for trying to be optimistic about Glen's phone call. She'd given Spencer false hope.

"In here, Spencer."

An icy chill ran down Ashley's spine as she recognized the indifference in Paula Carlin's voice. It was something she'd grown used to when Spencer just came out to her parents, and even long after that, despite putting her best foot forward, there was just something that always made her wary of her wife's mother. They'd gotten over their differences before the wedding, getting along for short amounts of time, but just the tone of Paula's voice had Ashley on high alert.

Ashley led Spencer – seeming tense all over again – to the dining room, where they found Paula sitting at the table, heaps of paperwork surrounding her. She wasn't dressed for work like Ben was, and it didn't look like she was going in to the emergency room anytime soon.

"Mom?"

Ashley's heart constricted at the way Spencer's voice cracked.

Her eyes followed Paula's features closely, confused as the older version of her wife finally looked up and smiled, seeming _happy_ to see them. "Spence! Ash! It's so good to see my girls!"

Paula pushed back her chair and jumped up, engulfing both of them in a big bear hug.

Ashley couldn't help herself, it felt like they were being led into a trap. There was a false sense of security in the false bravado Paula was offering Spencer. This was no April Fool's joke like Spencer had hoped.

"Where's Dad? And why aren't you dressed for work?" Spencer fired loose, her voice eerily cheerful. As if her world wasn't slowly falling apart.

Ashley wriggled out of Paula's arms to observe her reaction to Spencer's questions. The moment she let go and Paula gripped Spencer tight against her, she knew.

Glen hadn't been joking.

She held her breath, waiting with a heavy heart to see her wife come undone.

"So, what exactly did Glen tell you?"

Ashley immediately recognized Paula's deflecting tactics. It angered her immensely that the older Carlin thought her daughter was stupid enough to fall for it. Did she not remember that Spencer graduated high school with a GPA of three-point-nine?

"Mom, what's going on?"

And there it was. Ashley hoped that they would be completely honest with Spencer, even if it broke her now. She could deal with that. She could be prepared for the heartache and panic attacks to come. But if they started lying, like it already looked like they were doing, this was going to drag out for a very long time, putting immense pressure on Spencer, and eventually increase her anxiety. It irked Ashley that Paula, as such an accomplished surgeon, refused to acknowledge that her daughter had a health problem.

"Why don't you girls sit down? I'll grab us some coffee, and then we can talk."


	2. Anger : Part I

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and likes and follows! Some of Spencer and Ashley's characteristics are slightly reversed and AU in this chapter/fic, but I didn't want to swap the characters and families entirely since their backgrounds are mostly canon. Ashley will be more herself in the next chapter (after this one); there's nothing like a little bit of Madison to bring out her sarcasm!**

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 **SoNFan – Denial : Thank you, I know it's taken a while to update but this fic is particularly hard to write (different style and heavy), hope you like the new chapter!**

 **K1989 – Denial : I'm glad you like it, I don't think I'll be stopping with the writing anytime soon! Be sure to keep an eye out for the rom-com to follow right after Ghost of an Angel :)**

 **Xwpblue – Denial : Stoked that you're hooked! Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Anjela78 – Denial : I hope you enjoy this one, it's a bit heavy and not yet the romantic-comedy. I really want to finish Ghost of an Angel first before I start with that one. Hope you enjoy the update and have a great day!**

 **Southtrash – Denial : Yip, another one, though not many chapters planned. Sometimes some stories are just begging to be written, so I had to get it out since it's been (annoyingly) blocking me from getting the very crucial next chapters of GoaA out. And right after that, I have a comedy in store that will hopefully be a relief after all these heavy and dark fics! Anyway, here's my update, enjoy!**

 **GirlsOnly – Denial : I also feel a bit more emotional when I write this way, but for the length of the fics I find myself leaning towards first person if it gets too long. It also depends on my mood, I guess :) Yes it is a bit dark – actually not dark, just emotional, it was something that just had to come out! Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Ibea04 – Denial : Thank you for the review :) Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!**

 **ToriDub – Denial : I'm glad you like it, hope you enjoy this chapter, you'll find there's some mystery,** ** _again_** **, but not as bad as Ghost of an Angel – which I promise to update soon!**

 **Waked and baked – Denial : Sorry for the long wait, it's been challenging to write this fic! Hope you enjoy the update!**

* * *

 **Anger : Part I**

As years passed and she grew older, Spencer couldn't ever imagine herself being interested in someone other than Ashley Davies. She could also never imagine herself being interested in any guys – sometimes she wondered why it took her so long to come out. She – unlike Ashley, who would still to this day claim it wasn't about labels – was a full on lesbian. Her appreciation for the female body was far too strong and even though having to deal with crazy _'that time'_ hormones and insecurities and every quality about women that drove men mad, she absolutely loved being in love with a woman.

But despite being so female-orientated, Spencer was a daddy's girl. It started from an early age, as far back as her sharp mind could remember. Arthur Carlin was the parent who taught her how to ride a bike. Her father was the parent who came up for her whenever Glen teased her, or bought her new _Barbies_ whenever Glen's _G.I. Joes_ got too violent. He was also the one to read her bedtime stories and encouraged her to follow her dreams and never be afraid to be who she wanted to be. When Clay came into the picture, Spencer didn't feel like she had to share her dad; fly-fishing and camping and stargazing in Ohio just got so much more fun. After their move to LA, Arthur was the parent who fully and without prejudice accepted Spencer's transition from a struggling-with-her-identity teenager, to a woman who had the privilege to walk down the aisle with her wife-to-be, her father in the middle. Her dad was the first person she confided in and asked for advice when she admitted she was ready to start a family with Ashley.

So when the word _divorce_ registered in her ears – the _only_ thing she heard since her mother started with excuses about what they'd witnessed at the front door – Spencer froze.

 _"What?"_

Ashley felt as if all the air got knocked out of her. After seeing Ben Montanio leave the Carlin house earlier, and with no sign of Arthur Carlin, she started finding truth in Glen's words. Even so, she wouldn't believe it until it came from the horse's mouth.

She felt Spencer's hand clutching into hers, and wondered how she got through her own parents' divorce when she was just eight years old. She never remembered any talks with her father or Christine when they decided to call it quits. She was just left with the memory of her dad and having no choice but to live with an absent, socialite mother.

She figured she had it easy – childhood was a disappointment to Ashley and her high walls and deflection of emotions via sarcasm stemmed from neglect and lack of love from her parents. But when Spencer came into her life, she had found everything she ever needed to make up for the loss of what her parents never gave her. Spencer's love gave her a chance to rise from her own painful background and truly grow into the woman she felt she was meant to be.

In comparison, Spencer's life turned out the exact opposite. She was brought up surrounded by a loving family, offering her a safety net and cushioning her against life's hardships. Ashley couldn't fault Spencer for that - every child deserved to grow up being loved. Ashley wasn't sure how things were for Spencer back in Ohio, but she knew when she stepped into her wife's life, the slightest crack was already there. It was evident in the phase where Paula started using excessive make-up and spent ridiculous amounts of money on new lingerie. It was evident in the way Paula treated Spencer when she started falling in love and eventually came out as being gay. It was evident in the occasional periods of time when Ashley saw her father-in-law downing a glass of whiskey.

So, learning at the age of thirty that her in-laws were getting a divorce, Ashley knew it was going to be much harder to digest and live with, especially for Spencer, who'd been taught the importance of family her entire life.

"Spence, you've got to understand that this was not my doing. I don't even _want_ a divorce. But your father's made up his mind so if that is what he wants, I'll give it to him," Paula said indignantly.

Spencer couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was impossible for her to grasp that her father - the family _mediator_ \- would want this. He wasn't the one already moving on to the first available person! " _Daddy_ wanted this?" she gasped out. "I don't believe you!"

The words slipped out before she could stop herself, but what surprised Spencer more was that she couldn't find any trace of sorrow or despair in her mother's eyes. It was as if she'd already accepted it and was just ready to move on. And clearly she _did_ , if Ben Montanio's early morning presence was any indication.

It both confused and hurt her at the same time. Why would her father want a divorce and why would her mother _accept_ it?

"Spencer-"

 _"_ _When?"_

The look of indifference on her mother's face was devastating. Spencer felt her nails digging into Ashley's hand again, but she could hardly stop herself. None of this made sense - she couldn't possibly accept that this was the end of her family.

"When did this happen? And where is daddy?" Having to repeat herself to get answers from her mother wasn't helping at all. Spencer wasn't sure why, but she felt a vast amount of _anger_ rising up towards her mother.

"About two months ago," Paula exhaled.

Ashley was convinced that aliens had taken over the Carlins. Like her wife, she was in utter disbelief, unable to comprehend the words coming out of Paula's mouth. It was impossible to believe that any of this was real.

But when nails started clawing into her, the nightmare blurred out into a very painful reality.

"Two months? _Two_ _months_ _ago_?"

Spencer's chair screeched against the floor as she jumped up, adrenaline taking over all control of her bodily functions. She towered over the table, her hands shaking in fury as she supported herself to lean forward, her face close to her mother's. Though as angry as she was, the animosity she felt refused to escape her mouth. Instead, her voice cracked and the pain wept silently through her eyes, down her cheeks, all the way onto the solid, dark, mahogany table.

"When were you going to tell me? Why did Glen have to _drunk dial_ me for us to find out what's going on?"

"We didn't want to worry you, sweetie." Paula's eyes were void of any emotion, offering no comfort in her reasoning. "You've got your film-projects going on and I know you're starting the fertility process soon and I didn't think you'd appreciate the added inconvenience of –"

This time Ashley jumped up. Not to get as close to claw out Paula's eyes as Spencer was, but to prevent her wife from physically attacking her mother.

" _Inconvenience?_ You thought by keeping this from me I'd be _grateful_? How _thoughtful_ of you, mom. What else are you not telling me? How long have you been seeing Ben? And _where_ is _Dad_?"

Paula's lack of concern over the situation was what worried Ashley immensely. While she always considered her mother-in-law a little scary – _terrifying_ , if she had to include the time she'd been dragged out of the Carlin house by her hair – this, witnessing Paula so cold and almost _heartless_ , was out of character. Which just substantiated her theory that there was much more to the story than they were being led to believe.

She gently tugged on Spencer's arm until stormy eyes whirled on her, an exasperated _"What?"_ escaping her wife's lips.

Ashley didn't say anything – she didn't have to – she tugged once more before linking her fingers with Spencer's, leading her to sit back down, immediately settling the burning rage within the troubled blonde. She knew Spencer would apologize later, but she wasn't worried about that – this situation was hardly Spencer's fault. Her concern lay with the fact that Paula Carlin was unwilling to be open with her daughter, and was completely oblivious at how upsetting her apathetic behavior was. Ashley had her own anger towards the mother of her wife, an anger that ran much deeper than just the blatant lying and riling up of her daughter, but she chose not to voice her opinion about Paula's ridiculous reasons for keeping all of this from Spencer.

Still, fight or flight mode kicked in, and though part of her felt like they'd be running, Ashley knew the best thing for them to do was get away from Paula, at least just for a couple of hours until the news could sink in without being provoking Spencer even further.

She discreetly pulled her phone from her jean pocket, one hand still holding tightly onto Spencer's while the other unlocked the screen and navigated to the Uber App. It was difficult to concentrate while Paula fed them only bits and pieces of information that made things worse instead of better.

"I told Arthur to move out, I don't know if he found a place or where. He left most of his stuff here – I had it packed and moved to a storage facility."

Ashley flinched as Spencer's grip on her hand tightened enough to crack her knuckles. Had the situation not been so utterly depressing and aggravating, she would have teased Spencer about being Wonder Woman in her free time.

"Spencer, _he_ asked for a divorce, totally out of left field. I was shocked and hurt too, okay? But he's made up his mind and to be honest there's no going back. We've exchanged too many harsh words and I won't tolerate a man that pushes me around."

"He _pushed_ you?"

Spencer couldn't wait for Ashley to jump on the bed and wake her up early on the only day she got to sleep in. She'd even douse herself with the now-cold coffee, completely forgotten on the dining room table. _Anything_ would be better than this insane absurdity.

"Look, Spence, I know this is an awful lot for you to digest. I can honestly say I don't know what's gotten into your father, but he's not the man I married thirty-two years ago. And frankly I'd feel better if you didn't get into contact with him for the time being – not while he's so unpredictable."

Ashley already knew that there was no way Spencer would stay away from her father. She too wanted to talk to Arthur and hear his side of the story. She found it incredibly unfair that Paula expected this from Spencer.

"Oh, crap, look at that – our Uber is here," Ashley declared, holding up her phone, eager to get out of the suffocating presence of her mother-in-law. "Paula, we're here for the weekend and will get in touch with you again, right now we just want to sort out the hotel and a rental car."

Spencer felt a nudge from Ashley, completely unaware but grateful for the change of plans. She got up diligently, ignoring the confused and suddenly hurt look from her mother. As much as she wanted to push for more information, she knew she had to get away and process what she's learned so far. Not that it was much, but it was enough to cause a familiar pressure in her chest, a pressure she didn't want her mother to see. Spencer couldn't cope with her mother's disappointment that she hadn't yet gotten over her anxiety attacks on top of everything else.

"You guys are not staying here for the weekend? You know there's plenty of room," Paula asked, sounding defeated for the first time since their arrival.

While Spencer looked guilty for bolting, Ashley already had this conversation planned out in her head. She had two hours on the plane to think of escape plans and excuses and whatever else it would take to save Spencer from the illogical shame and embarrassment her anxiety would cause. And of course, saving herself from the desire to deck Paula for her insensitivity.

"We really appreciate the offer, Paula, but we have a couple of things to sort out work-wise, and the hotel is situated in West Hollywood where we need to be. That way we can get everything done quicker and come spend more time here." It was a blatant lie except for the location of the hotel, but Ashley didn't care. Their lift was waiting and she really just wanted to get out of there.

"We'll see you later, maybe a late lunch?" Spencer offered as an afterthought.

Paula smiled sadly but accepted the compromise. "Late lunch it is. Would you mind meeting me at Mario and Luigi's down the road from the hospital? My shift starts at four-PM, so perhaps we can meet at two?"

"That's perfect, we'll be there." Ashley hugged Paula out of respect for her wife, and urged Spencer on to hurry up since their Uber was waiting.

Neither of them noticed the tears making its way down Paula's cheeks as the car pulled away from the curb.

* * *

"Call him."

Spencer was touched by the tenderness in Ashley's voice, and slightly surprised that her wife looked as crestfallen as she did about the entire situation. But looking at it from Ashley's perspective, she realized her dad had been as much a father to Ashley as he had been to herself and her brothers.

When Raife Davies died in that horrific car accident back in their junior year, so did Ashley's last expectations of a bond with her immediate blood family. Christine wasn't around enough or supportive enough of Ashley to be a model mother, let alone any mother at all. She'd made it clear that Ashley's existence was one of her life's biggest disappointments, and to this day the words cut through Spencer like a knife. Ashley may have brushed it off but Spencer felt that pain on behalf of her wife, often wishing that life hadn't dealt Ashley such a terrible hand.

But Ashley was incredibly strong, one of the qualities that Spencer absolutely loved about her. And right now, that strength was what kept _her_ together. She offered a grateful smile and bravely accepted Ashley's phone, not even sure what she'd done with her own.

Her heart fluttered every time she saw how Ashley had saved her father's number in her contact list – _Dad Carlin_ – confirming just how much Ashley accepted her dad as a father-figure in her life.

Spencer's fingers trembled slightly as she pressed the green button, holding her breath as she waited for the dial tone. Disappointment washed over her as the call went straight to voicemail, and she felt a slight pang as she listened to the familiar upbeat voice as her father instructed the callers to leave their name and contact details so he could return their call.

Her voice cracked as she left her own message, praying that he hadn't changed numbers or disappeared from LA. She desperately needed to see him, unwilling to believe anything her mother had told her. She had utmost faith in her father that he wasn't the bad person her mother made him out to be. There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this.

"He'll call you back, just hold on in there, okay? We'll get to the bottom of this," Ashley encouraged softly, reaching for her hand, squeezing gently before linking their fingers.

The tears were already resting on the brim of her eyelids, forcing Spencer to swallow a couple of times to stop herself from crying. It felt like it would never end; the crying, the tension, the confusion, and the long, long day – despite it only being nine-thirty in the morning.

* * *

"Do you think I should call Glen?"

Ashley stopped unpacking their clothes, her heart aching as she took in Spencer's defeated, slumped form on the luxurious king-sized bed. She was sitting right on the edge, fumbling with her phone, anxiously waiting for her father to return her call.

Ashley straightened out the dress shirt and swiftly fixed it onto the provided clothes hanger before making her way over to the bed in three lengthy strides. "I think it would be good for you to see him, yes. Get things from his perspective – maybe he has some more details. And perhaps a way to get hold of your dad."

Spencer's smile reached her eyes for the first time since their early morning bantering on the plane. She hadn't even thought about the possibility that her older brother could provide her with the vital information she was so desperately seeking. Her head tilted slightly, gratitude washing over her as she looked at Ashley with love and adoration.

"What?" Ashley sported a slight smile of her own when she noticed the head tilt.

"I love you. Thank you for being here, and being so amazing. It feels like I'm looking at everything through tunnel vision while you're thinking outside the box and being the one with common sense between the two of us." A slight blush tinted Spencer's cheeks as she realized just how much Ashley's support had gotten her through the past nine hours.

Ashley pulled Spencer into her arms and held on tightly. "I love you too, Spence. You would have done the same for me – on numerous occasions you _have_. I wish I could do more for you, but I'm in the dark as much as you are, but know that you have my support, okay?"

"Okay."

"Now phone that brother of yours and make arrangements to see them tonight. I promise I'll be on my best behavior and refrain from slapping Madison."

* * *

Ashley should have known that Paula's suggestion to meet them at an Italian restaurant down the road from the hospital was premeditated. She spotted the tied up blonde hair first, her eyes more fixed on the tanned, masculine neck sporting dark, short hair, occupying the seat next to Paula's. They were both dressed in casual wear but the standard, bright, white doctor-overcoats hung from the crest rails of the comfortable high back wooden chairs of Mario and Luigi's.

It seemed that they were sharing an intimate moment, eyes staring deeply into each other's with silly smiles lighting up their faces.

She wished there was a way to divert their attention away from each other and have them stop being all in love before Spencer saw them. It would only add more fuel to the fire and completely destroy the last bit of respect Spencer had for her mother.

"Ash, would you mind finding my mom? I just need to go freshen up, my eyes are still scratchy," Spencer asked pleadingly as they fully stepped into the restaurant, unknowingly creating the gap Ashley needed to break apart the unsuspecting lovebirds.

She tried her best to compose herself and not let the anger of what she'd witnessed seep through in front of Spencer, and nodded with a tight smile. "Take your time, and call me if you need anything, okay?"

Spencer nodded and planted a soft kiss on her lips, and Ashley wondered fleetingly if she should lie to Spencer and tell her that her mother had cancelled on them. She had no idea what Spencer's reaction would be with Ben Montanio in the picture, but she knew _her_ reaction would probably have her kicked out and banned for life. But her wife disappeared into the washroom before she could fabricate a lie to get them out of there, and left her with no other option but to confront the mother-in-law from hell.

"You seem really upset for a woman who's going through a puzzling divorce from a husband that's stood by your side and raised your children for thirty-two years. It's quite a stellar example you're setting for Spencer, Paula."

Ashley slid into a vacant chair opposite the fifty-somethings, her phone and keys dropping onto the table, enjoying the shock on their faces, but saddened that this was what it had all come down to.

Despite her great dislike towards Paula since the moment they met, she always admired and looked up to the Carlin parents. How could she _not_ – they raised a beautiful daughter with strong moral values and the biggest heart. A daughter who'd questioned her own identity, who'd bravely come out to a Catholic mother and survived the rejection and bigotry. A daughter who was devastated after losing her brother physically and her girlfriend emotionally in one night, but bravely pushed forward and got through it. A daughter who struggled every day with the fear of losing control and succumb to panic attacks. They raised a fighter. And it was devastating to watch Spencer fall apart once again, without knowing if she'd get through it this time.

The thought of Spencer still safely in the washroom, unaffected by Paula's inconsiderate actions, had Ashley's blood boil.

And so did the words that escaped her mother-in-law's mouth. "Just who do you think you're talking to? You have _no_ idea what's been happening in my house, in my _marriage_ , Ashley."

"You see, Paula, that's just the thing. You are absolutely right, we _don't_ know. You've been vague this entire time and you didn't even tell Spencer what was going on! Don't you think she deserves to know the truth?" Ashley's closed fist hit the table in frustration, cutlery clinking as it bounced on the neatly decorated surface. Several patrons glanced their way, but Ashley couldn't care less.

"I uh, I think I'll give you ladies some time to talk this out. I'll see you at the hospital?" Ben declared, completely ignoring Ashley as he stood up, his chair scraping against the wooden-textured tiles. With his attention solely on Paula, he planted a kiss on her cheek, setting Ashley off even more.

"What are _you_ even _doing_ here? Who are you to ruin this marriage further? For all I know _you're_ the one who drove Arthur and Paula apart!"

"Ashley, that is _enough_ ," Paula hissed. Her palms striking the table had the cutlery jingle again, this time attracting a disapproving glare from the manager.

"No! I want to know! Is that why Arthur left? Because you're having an _affair_?"

"Ashley, I think you need to calm down, for Spencer's sake," Paula deflected. "Where is she, anyway?"

Ashley couldn't stop herself. A bitter laugh escaped her the same time tears of frustration and disbelief welled up in her eyes. "For _Spencer's_ sake? _Now_ you want to care? How about all the years when she needed your support when the anxiety started? How about the time we got married and I had to _beg_ you to be there for Spencer? How about telling her the truth about you and Doctor Rush-wannabe over here? Just be honest for _once_ in your life, Paula."

"You want the truth, Ashley?"

Ashley scoffed. "Did I stutter?"

"It's been twelve years since Clay's death, Ashley. Spencer should have been over this by now, instead she allowed this so-called anxiety to run away with her. And you just helped her into that ditch, making her think there's something _wrong_ with her. As for the wedding, don't for a single moment think that I supported _anything_ to do with it. I will never support it and I will _never_ accept you as my daughter – you won't _ever_ be good enough for Spencer. _You_ are one of the reasons Arthur and I couldn't make things work out. _You_ and your trashy homosexual lifestyle, corrupting and converting my daughter into something she was not. Arthur thinks the world of you and kept fighting me because of you, but I see right through you, through what you've done. So _there's_ some truth, Ashley. Ben didn't do anything, _you_ did."

Ashley 's heart didn't momentarily stop because of Paula's cruel and overwhelmingly painful words. The room around her spun for a brief moment because as she looked up, her eyes locked with dark, stormy pools of blue; Spencer's pale face horrified as she stared at the spectacle, Ben still there right behind Paula, equally shocked.

* * *

Spencer was convinced she had everything under control, that she'd be able to sit down with her mother for two hours and try to get some more information from her in a civilized manner. She _had_ to control herself – she didn't want to cause a scene and get kicked out of the restaurant.

But as she stepped out of the washroom and into the main dining area, it was evident that someone was already causing a bit of a ruckus. She faintly recognized the raised voices and nervously followed the stares of the other patrons until her gaze landed on Ashley. And her mother, with Ben Montanio standing right behind her, his hand supportively on her shoulder.

At first she thought she was imagining things, that they were just having a silly, loud conversation and unknowingly attracted the attention of patrons and wait staff alike. However, as she inched closer, her heart started racing and her chest constricted impossibly tight around her lungs.

She was mortified at the way Ashley was talking to her mother, but what hurt more, more than she could ever describe without pushing a knife into a chest, was the words leaving her mother's mouth.

Spencer gasped for breath as she listened to her mother blame Ashley for her ongoing anxiety problem, as her mother disapproved of their wedding and learned that she never wanted to be there in the first place, and then as she witnessed pain flash in Ashley's eyes despite the straight face she kept when her mother slandered Ashley as a person, as her _wife_.

She was surprised at the taste of blood in her mouth, unaware that her teeth had sunken into her lip the same way her nails pierced into her palms, fists clenching and unclenching.

Spencer was severely disappointed in her wife for her behavior and deeply hurt to find out Ashley had lied to her about her mother's presence at their wedding.

Anger took over the shock as she marched to the cluttered table, hyper aware of eyes following her every move. But she was beyond caring; the desire to get out of the restaurant and as far away from the looming threat of a severe anxiety attack, had her grab the rental car keys from the table and spun on her heel to make a run for it.

"Spencer!"

Ashley was up and out of her chair in an instant, fearing the worst. She knew Spencer had heard every single word of the altercation, and by the look on her face, she knew _she_ wouldn't be forgiven any time soon.

"Spencer, please stop!"

Her own feelings was the least of her concern as she dashed out of the restaurant, struggling to keep up with Spencer in her heels. She wasn't only worried that Spencer could potentially have an anxiety attack, she was worried that it could happen while she was _driving_.

By the time she reached the parking lot, completely out of breath, the spot where the red _Prius_ stood was vacated. Ashley's heart sank at the realization that she'd have to go back to the restaurant to get her phone and purse, instantly feeling tears wetting her cheeks as the shock of what just happened started kicking in.

She didn't care about her run down appearance or the mascara staining her cheeks as she wiped hastily to get rid of the steadily flowing tears. She trudged back to the restaurant, dreading to have to encounter Paula again.

But for once the universe was on her side; a family of four was seated at the table the embarrassing commotion happened just minutes ago, no trace of Paula or Ben.

"Signora, I believe this is yours?"

The manager gingerly handed Ashley her belongings, an apologetic smile trying to cover up the pity in his eyes.

Ashley couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so belittled – she'd worked _so_ hard all her life to build up walls to keep people from _destroying_ her like Paula Carlin just did.

With a desolate sigh she unwillingly walked to the park across from the hospital, desperately in need of a bench to just sit down to calm the intense panic within her so she could gather her thoughts.

Her hands were shaking as she dialed Spencer's number, praying that her wife had gone back to the hotel, where she'd at least be _safe_. Going straight to voicemail, she knew Spencer was still angry, so she left a short message, begging her wife to take care of herself above all.

Before she decided to once again catch an Uber, Ashley realized there was something else she could do, something she hoped would bring some peace to Spencer, especially now that her wife believed _she_ couldn't anymore.

It was extremely difficult to structure her words without revealing the state Spencer was in. But Ashley was convinced that her father-in-law, _if_ he got her text, would have the heart to go see his daughter at the hotel and room details she provided.

* * *

Ashley couldn't bear the thought of visiting Glen without reinforcements; she absolutely needed Spencer by her side to make Madison's presence bearable. It didn't help that they were now related, even if it was through the Carlin siblings. After failed records and Madison's preference to dance instead, their rekindled friendship crashed sooner than it really took off.

So going there was out of the question; she didn't know if Spencer would still keep to the arranged dinner plans, but she sent off a short message to apologize and cancel on behalf of herself. Glen could take it however he wanted.

It was already dark out and after continuous fruitless attempts to get hold of Spencer, Ashley decided to head back to the hotel in hope to find her there. She wasn't sure what Spencer's reaction towards her would be, but she was worried, and exhausted, and sweaty, and would settle for a couch or even the carpeted floor if she had to.

Relief didn't come in the form of an anticipated shower or the sleep she knew she'd get; Ashley rushed over to the king-sized bed as a sliver of light spilled into the dark room, revealing the silhouette of a human lump under the covers. The blonde mane confirmed that it was Spencer, and Ashley felt the tension drain from her body like an emptying basin, utterly grateful that her wife was safe and sound.

She carefully pulled the covers back, her heart breaking at the sight of closed puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, a busted lip, and fists still clenched into tiny moon-shaped lacerations that would surely need some medical attention to prevent infection.

Ashley was alert at the sound of slight wheezing, confirming her fears that Spencer _did_ have a panic attack.

A feeling of total failure washed over her, and for the first time in her life, she wondered if there wasn't maybe truth in Paula's words; that she'd never be good enough.

* * *

The darkness startled her, and Spencer jolted upright, the emptiness next to her and the lack of Ashley's presence in the room immediately sending her into a frenzy.

She grabbed towards her phone with trembling fingers, ignoring the plethora of missed calls and text notifications, the only thing she could concentrate on was to find Ashley.

Her heart pounded hard against her chest as she realized what she'd done, how she'd let down the only person who still seemed to care about her.

The screen of Ashley's phone lit up with a picture of Spencer in her wedding attire, the vibration buzzing loud enough for her to realize it was ringing close by. The relief was overwhelming, and Spencer trained her eyes to adjust to the dark room, finally making out a faint light spreading from the bottom of the bathroom door, recognizing the sound of running water.

She jumped up from the bed and rushed to the door, her hand already on the handle when she froze in her tracks.

Heart-wrenching sobs came from the inside; it was loud and painful and the kind of crying Spencer wasn't familiar with. She's never heard Ashley cry like that – she barely _ever_ heard Ashley cry, and the realization alone had her frantically yank on the doorknob, pushing hard on the wood that separated her from her distressed wife. What she saw was even more crushing; warm water cascaded over Ashley's body where she sat on the shower floor, knees pulled right up to her chin, arms hugging them tightly as she tried to keep herself from falling apart.

But she was failing miserably, the loud wailing attesting to the pain escaping her.

"Ash?" Spencer tried carefully, her heart aching tremendously. She didn't care about her socks or jeans or shirt getting soaked; she was beside Ashley in a heartbeat, pulling her wife tightly into her arms.

Ashley only cried more, feeling unworthy of Spencer's comfort and at the same time incredibly _angry_ for the way Spencer had made her feel when she left the restaurant. Like she failed her, like she wasn't good enough, like Paula's words were true.

But most of all, she was _furious_ because Spencer had her so worried, drove off without her, and that while she was on the brink of a panic attack. She wriggled out of Spencer's arms, wanting nothing more than to push her away the same way Spencer did to her.

But the way Spencer's face fell, catching on that her touch was being rejected, had Ashley think twice. She was going to give Spencer a piece of her mind, but thereafter they had to bury it. Their pain and anger was misdirected – like it so often happened when people lashed out at the people they cared about most.

Ashley took a deep breath while Spencer's hitched, aware that more heartache was awaiting her. She knew that she'd hurt Ashley deeply and wondered when the cycle of hurt and anger would ever stop. She swallowed hard as Ashley's voice cracked but never lost its firmness as she spoke.

"I was worried out of my mind, Spence. Anything could have happened, _anything_. And as much as I'm furious with you, I can't help but be thankful that you're okay. I've been supportive of you all this time, and I've never, not _once_ , dismissed your anxiety or taken it lightly. I may not exactly understand what you're going through, but it doesn't mean that I don't feel the pain your parents are inflicting on you. We're in this together, but if you _ever_ do something crazy like that again, I swear, Spence, I won't forgive you that easily. I expected more from you – you could at least have called, or let me know that you were safe."

Spencer flinched inwardly as her teeth sunk through her lip a second time, wretched about how her actions had hurt Ashley. She dropped her gaze, her tears mixing with the now lukewarm water flowing over her own body. "I'm sorry," she croaked out, suddenly feeling small under Ashley's stare.

"I know you are. And I'm sorry too, Spence. I thought I was protecting you; I never realized how much Paula was still against us being together. And I'm sorry for making a scene, and for causing you even more pain. I don't want us to be angry with each other, we need to support each other now more than ever. Aside from Kyla you're all I have, and I cherish you, Spence."

Ashley's right hand index finger found residence under Spencer's chin, gently lifting it until their eyes met, while her left hand sought the familiarity of Spencer's, offering a tight squeeze of support. "I'll never let you fall – remember that, okay?"


	3. Anger : Part II

**A/N: I hate to admit but I haven't been able to go through this a second or third time to smooth out mistakes, when the time is right I'll fix grammar issues. Thank you for all the reviews, I'll do a FoF next chapter.**

* * *

 **Anger : Part II**

The night didn't end the same _hot_ way their occasional 'fight nights' ended. Spencer could see that her wife was worn out and still sensitive from the hurtful words her mother had so callously thrown around. As much as she wanted to reassure Ashley _physically_ that she was absolutely loved and adored, Ashley's body language begged for a different, softer kind of love. So Spencer slid in underneath the thick covers of the luxurious king-sized bed, scooting up until the length of her body touched Ashley's.

"Can I hold you?" she whispered hesitantly, her own voice raw from crying and yelling after all the excitement of the day.

Ashley didn't have to be asked twice. She shifted and wriggled until her head rested on Spencer's collarbone, mindful not to put pressure on her wife's chest. She could still hear a soft, slight wheezing if she listened very carefully, and it troubled her. But her worries disappeared when an arm closed around her shoulders and pulled her in even tighter, their bodies flush against each other's. The contact was all she needed to soothe her heavy heart.

Regardless of her own heartache, Spencer could feel Ashley's uncertainty and pain. It tore into her, more than Christine's harsh words all those years ago, more than her mother's deceit on their wedding day, more than any pain she'd ever felt in her lifetime. Hearing Ashley cry the way she did in the shower was forever burned into her memory. And she wished more than ever that she could erase it, more so for Ashley than herself. She wasn't proud of the way she acted; it was in the moment and without even thinking what it would do to Ashley. All she could think of was getting away before they saw her breaking down - _especially_ her mother. It was hard enough that Ashley still loved and protected her unconditionally in spite of the panic attacks; she couldn't bear not being able to defend her wife while her mother continued throwing hurtful things in their faces like painful punches. It was all so unnecessary, all of these things that came out, just because everybody was angry. Spencer didn't think it was fair that _they_ got caught in the line of fire - especially not Ashley – because of her parents' failed marriage.

She let out a heavy sigh and planted a soft kiss on Ashley's head, grateful that her wife's breathing had evened out, her nose puffing out air as she exhaled lightly. She felt more relaxed knowing Ashley was at least still able to fall asleep in her arms. It's been the longest, emotionally _draining_ day since high school - since the shooting...

A few more hours dragged by with Spencer still fretting about everything that's happened before her own eyes drooped too, her body finally surrendering to exhaustion, allowing her some much needed rest.

* * *

Ashley wasn't sure when she'd ever wake up with a smile on her face again – she hadn't anticipated any in the near future – but when a heavy eyelid lifted to frown at what sounded like a soft knock, but more so to investigate what's been pressing into her front, the smile was there, widening even.

She had no idea when she fell asleep – her last memory was of Spencer kissing her goodnight and thereafter sleep thankfully took her away, all the way back to Seattle and their home and work and friends.

Waking up like this, however, erased all the pain and confusion and uncertainty she'd felt the previous day. Spencer was curled up into her where she usually felt most safe, her face peaceful in her slumber. She felt the slightest flurry of butterflies knowing Spencer still found comfort in her presence.

Her eyes finally flitted open completely and adjusted, taking in slithers of sunshine trying to peek through the blackout curtains. Her phone, and Spencer's, blinked harshly against the semi-darkness of the room, indicating they'd both missed some calls. She was utterly thankful for _silent-mode_ , appreciating that they could sleep in. It was annoying that the hotel provided alarm clocks, but she looked anyway, amused that it was already ten-AM. At least they managed to rest, and she hoped that Spencer didn't work herself up too much before falling asleep.

By the look of things, however, she felt positive that this day would go much better. The initial shock had worn off, and between herself and Spencer they both knew now not to take their anger about the situation out on each other. If anything, Ashley didn't mind taking her anger out on Paula Carlin. But for Spencer's sake, she would stay calm for as long as her self-restraint would allow it.

Another soft knock confused her, and she realized that was what must have woken her in the first place.

Ashley grabbed a pillow as replacement for Spencer to cuddle into, and carefully scooted out from underneath the sheets and off the bed. The fluffy hotel-gowns were heavenly, tempting her to go shop around and take some back to Seattle.

She didn't bother to enquire first who was on the other side of the door, she didn't bother to open it just slightly in case it was Paula, she didn't bother that it could be room-service. Her resolution was to get rid of whoever it was as soon as possible. Spencer was finally asleep and that was all that mattered.

Ashley yanked on the door handle, her jaw dropping, her heart racing ecstatically as she stared at the person in front of her.

"Coffee?"

* * *

The moment he put the three paper cups down, Ashley threw herself into her father-in-law's arms. She wanted to scream out her relief at the top of her lungs and hug him until he couldn't breathe anymore.

But Arthur chuckled and gently pried her off of him, giving Ashley his fatherly once-over. His action made her lightheaded and brought up tears she thought had dried out after all the crying the previous night.

"All your limbs seem intact. Is Spence taking good care of you, Ash?"

Ashley nodded tearfully, her gaze turning to check on the woman still fast asleep on the bed. "She's the best, Arthur." She motioned for him to take a seat on the large L-shaped sofa provided by the hotel, and sat down next to him.

"I'm sorry for showing up unannounced, I tried to phone but neither of you picked up. And I know there's a lot of questions. I was just… _worried_ , you sounded upset, Ash. What's going on, what happened?"

Ashley swallowed hard, wanting to just unload everything onto the man she considered her father too. But she wanted Spencer awake, she wanted her wife to have this conversation, because Spencer needed the surety and closure much more than _she_ did.

"A lot has happened, but I rather you talk to Spence, Arthur. It's taken a huge toll on her. On both of us, but you know…"

Arthur smiled in understanding and it made Ashley just want to cry. How could one parent be so sympathetic while the other was completely _a_ pathetic?

Ashley followed Arthur's gaze to the bed and felt a pang in her chest when his eyes visibly teared up. This was how Paula was _supposed_ to react. Caring and worried and loving, things Ashley could recognize by just looking at her father-in-law. It was in his posture, his eyes, on his face.

"So Paula told you?"

The sigh she let out was heavy and full of emotion. "All we know is there's a divorce. Other than that, it's been a tragic rollercoaster ride."

Ashley watched her father-in-law carefully, swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in her throat. "Should I – should I come back later? I'd really love to talk to Spence but it really looks like she needs the rest."

Ashley jumped up, almost sprinting to block the door and prevent him from leaving. "No, you can't, please don't leave. I'll wake her – she would be grateful."

She knew that much was true. Spencer would be ecstatic to wake up to her father being there. Even if it meant things were to get emotional again.

"Alright. I guess now is as good time as any. At least there's coffee," Arthur chuckled.

* * *

 _"Dad?"_

Ashley has never before seen so many emotions flash across a person's face than she'd just witnessed. Spencer went from half asleep to a surprised disbelief to overjoyed in the matter of seconds, leaping out of the bed right into her father's arms. Tears were flowing constantly and Ashley struggled to figure out whether they were happy tears or the type that's been building up to explode after an emotional breakdown.

But a relieved laugh escaped her as she watched her wife interact with her father, and she discreetly coerced Spencer into one of the fluffy gowns – just to be a little more decent. An oversized T-shirt and boyshorts were definitely only for _her_ eyes to see.

"What are you doing here? How did you know where to find us?" Spencer fired loose, a relaxed smile on her face as the three of them settled back down on the large sofa.

"Well, Ashley sent me the hotel details and your room number – I didn't think you guys would still be sleeping when I came up. Guess some things never change," Arthur chuckled.

Spencer mouthed a heartfelt thank-you to Ashley as her father explained how he knew where they were. Their fingers linked automatically and she felt her heart skip a beat at the notion, her teeth sinking into her busted bottom lip to keep herself from crying out in pure relief. Nothing meant more to her than Ashley's forgiveness.

"So, how long are you guys in town for?"

For a very brief moment, Ashley felt an alarm bell going off, but unable to put her finger on it just yet, she decided to stall. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but something was _nagging_.

"Well, we're flying back out tom– " Spencer frowned as Ashley cut her off unexpectedly.

"Actually, there was a problem with our return flight booking. The airline will notify me during the course of today, but we may have to stay an extra day." Ashley knew Spencer was going to freak out because of their hectic work schedules, but she was willing to take the backlash for it. She wanted to make absolutely sure that they only returned home once _all_ of their questions were answered.

Arthur's face lit up at this, and Spencer couldn't help but notice the contrast seconds ago, at how her father looked older and skinny and exhausted. Whatever the real reason for the divorce was, she could see it was eating away at him.

"Great, care to spend some time with your old man, then?"

" _Old_ man?" Ashley teased. "You're still young enough to remember your own name! That counts for something, right?"

"I'd hope so," Arthur agreed, his smile finally reaching his eyes.

"Well, shall we go do something for the day, then? We could quickly get ready and grab some breakfast or sit down for brunch?" Spencer suggested hopefully. Spending time with her father had always been so much easier than being with her mother. She was also optimistic about clarity over the divorce – perhaps if her father felt at ease he'd be able to talk to them openly – more than they could ever expect from Paula.

Ashley was about to suggest they get ready _together_ , but stopped herself in time, remembering that it was Spencer's _father_ sitting with them. They may get along well but she had the utmost respect for the man who'd brought up her wife. "Why don't you get showered quickly, Spence? I want to phone the airport before I forget."

"How is she holding up?" Arthur asked as soon as Spencer was out of earshot.

Ashley took a deep breath, the events of the previous day not entirely forgotten. While Paula's words may have hurt her deeply, she knew she'd eventually get over it. It was easy to move on and forget about the older Carlin once they returned home – since there was never a relationship between Ashley and her mother-in-law to _start_ with. But Spencer… she knew it would take a while for everything that's happened to sink in, and then it was going to take months, maybe even _years_ , for Spencer to ever forgive her mother for saying the things she did. Paula would be happy to receive any forgiveness at _all_.

"She's trying, but it's getting hard on her. She had an attack on the plane, and late yesterday afternoon. You missed out on a lot of drama," Ashley admitted.

"I'm really sorry to put you guys through this, Ash. It's just… things are difficult, but I _will_ explain my side of things to both of you. I'm a bit wary to ask what happened when you saw Paula."

Ashley laughed ruefully. "Same old, Arthur. She still hates me, still believes I came from hell and converted your daughter." It became easier to laugh about it over the years, but the one thing Ashley would always resent Paula Carlin for was her lack of support towards Spencer when it came down to the panic attacks. "And she also still believes that nothing is wrong with Spence."

A knife turned in her chest as she recalled some of the times she had to watch helplessly as Spencer succumbed to anxiety. It was never easy and she didn't think it _would_ ever get any easier.

"Ash," Arthur sighed sadly. "When it comes to the medical field, Paula is a very hardened person. I think, for a trauma surgeon to some extent, you _have_ to become a little like that in order to separate yourself from emotions that could potentially cost a life. There's a reason why family don't treat family; as a doctor your judgment will _always_ be clouded. I know it doesn't justify Paula's unkindness, I just want you to know that there are _so_ many factors that make up her belief system. She's always been more about the physical science than emotional science."

Ashley watched her father-in-law take a deep breath and scratch his chin, almost as if talking for a while tired him out completely.

"Anxiety disorder, or in Spencer's case, PTSD, is a real thing, no matter what Paula makes of it. Have you ever sat in with Spence on any of her therapy sessions?"

Ashley shook her head, wondering if it may have helped.

"You should ask her if you can. And discuss it with her therapist, you should _both_ describe what you're going through when it happens. It will give you a different insight on Spence's thought process, and Spencer will also get to understand a little better what it does to you. Despite the minimal risk factor and medical standpoint that it is a non life-threatening disorder, there are some serious illnesses that could arise from continuous attacks, especially if left untreated."

Ashley frowned at this. "Arthur, I'd never-"

"I know you'd never let anything happen to her. That's why I'm telling you all of this," Arthur confirmed with a soft smile. He reached out and gave Ashley's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Had it not been for you, Spence would have forced herself to believe that nothing was wrong, because that's what she's been told by her mother," Arthur sighed heavily.

"I'm not here to badmouth Paula. She is still the mother of my children, and despite of what's going on I still love her. I just want _you_ to know, that _I'm_ grateful you're in Spencer's life, Ashley."

* * *

"Are you _seriously_ going to go on the Pacific Wheel? I don't believe this!"

As much as Spencer was excited, she couldn't help but narrow her eyes at her father and Ashley. Her father had been afraid of heights from a very young age, and Ashley had no interest to have a repeat experience on the Ferris wheel with her after their last date to the park turned into a yack-fest because they both had the flu.

"Well, that's why we're doing this _before_ breakfast," Ashley stated with a huff. "Now come on, this offer expires in two minutes."

The trio hurried towards the short queue of the famous Pacific Wheel, each distracted by their own thoughts.

Spencer wasn't naive enough to believe that her father's early morning visit, the plans they made for the day, or even the Ferris wheel-ride was just because he wanted her to have a day full of fun. Although she enjoyed this thoroughly and felt somewhat like a teenager again, appreciating that her father still wanted to do these kind of things with her, she felt the tiniest bit of frustration that everybody was trying to lower the blow for her instead of just telling it to her face how it was. She wanted the truth - she _needed_ the truth.

Ashley knew from the moment Arthur pitched up unannounced that something was off. She didn't want to overthink things - surely he knew that they'd only be in LA for a limited time so it could have been that he didn't want to risk _not_ seeing them. But his general behavior was different - as if his spirit was dampened. And she could understand why - he was going through a divorce, after all, but at his age, _why_? Unless Paula was cheating on him with Ben, she couldn't see any other reason why Arthur Carlin would ever split up his family. To her, he was the _definition_ of family.

So, she decided, whatever Spencer and Arthur felt like they wanted to do, she'd bite the bullet and go with it. The last thing she wanted was for Spencer to feel empty in this already dire situation. If at least _one_ parent could soothe her pain and fear, Ashley would gladly take it.

But as the wheel slowed down and the early noon crowd dwindled off, her stomach dropped, reminding Ashley all too well of her very last time on the ride. She'd sworn off _all_ arcade rides with Spencer after that day, plummeting the last bit of teen in them straight into adulthood.

"Ash, you don't have to do this if you can't stomach it," Spencer soothed her gently, their fingers linking. "Dad, the same goes for you. I'm really okay if we just have lunch or something on the pier."

"Spence, are you trying to chicken out on us here?" Arthur chuckled, his own face a slightly yellowish pale as the ride attendant ushered them closer.

"Tickets please," the teenage boy announced, his palm open to accept their fare and help them into the passenger car.

Ashley pushed the tickets into the attendant's hand before she could back out, or let her hesitation make Arthur back out. "Spence, you're in the middle. And if you so much as _dare_ puke on me-"

Spencer laughed as Ashley slid into the car, following suit, allowing her father to sit on the other outer side. "Dad, are you okay? Do you want to swop and sit in the middle?"

"No, I'm good Spence. As much as I'm nervous, I'm also excited to see the view. I can do this."

"You better, because here we go!" Ashley laughed, her nerves settling after the first couple of jerks receded. Familiar feelings returned – warm feelings – reminding her of hot summers and that fluttering feeling of being in love. When she heard Spencer cheer next to her, she grabbed towards one free hand, enjoying the carelessness the Ferris wheel offered them.

Spencer's heart felt like it was about to explode as Ashley grabbed her hand. It wasn't from nerves - Ashley had never been afraid of heights - her distaste with the rides came from the stench of puke. And of course, being a receiver _and_ giver of said illness. Spencer could feel the love and enthusiasm coming from her wife, and surprisingly, also from her father. She wasn't afraid to be strong for him. She extended her free hand, effectively surrounding herself in the love from the two people who meant the most to her.

* * *

Ashley had the urge to put her foot down, to retract the generosity of her undivided time and put a stop to all the craziness that the two Carlins had been up to the entire day. But when she saw Spencer's face light up to what sounded like an overnight, impromptu _camping_ trip, and even worse, _Arthur's_ face at the mere possibility, she couldn't help but feel ambushed into the situation.

She wondered when had she become such a softy and if Spencer's pout would _ever_ cease to work on her.

"You do know that both of you are crazy, right?" she asked as they browsed the aisles of _Costco_. "What are we even going to do with this stuff afterward? We can't take it all on the plane!"

"Don't worry, Ash, we'll figure something out. Right now, what you _should_ be worrying about, is a proper backpack and a lightweight tent for you and Spence to share. And sleeping bags. Can't go without those," Arthur pointed out, already flipping through the hangers of sleeping gear.

"Wait, are we going to have to _carry_ all these stuff?"

"Ash, it is called hiking for a reason. And don't worry, everything is light these days. We should be able to do five miles easily," Spencer chimed in, her eyes scanning over the specialized hiking tents. Deep down she knew it was a crazy, unnecessary expense. But she was willing to let it take a chunk out of her savings, her gut telling her that she would forever treasure the decision to go through with this.

Not only would she never get Ashley to camp with her again, but her father's impulsive ideas had an uneasiness settle deep within her. He'd always been one for good, fun ideas, but it came with planning and knowing well ahead of time what they needed without having to purchase additional gear spontaneously. She worried her tender lip as she considered their options; contacting her mother to find out where her father's belongings - including their camping gear - were stored, and possibly risk a blowout of epic proportions, or take the plunge and do this _with_ Ashley, _for_ her father.

Staring at the two inconspicuously, she already knew what her heart wanted. This opportunity wasn't something she should take lightly - the chances of this overnight hike and fishing trip ever happening again was slim to none.

" _Five_ miles? Before we came in here you said it was _three_! And that there were no bears! Now your dad's already picking out weapons!" Ashley exclaimed in horror.

Spencer followed her wife's finger pointing towards where her father was now standing, tears attacking her eyes the same time her body convulsed as she burst out in an uncontrollable laughter.

Ashley didn't think the situation was funny at all. If she had a death wish she'd have taken on Paula Carlin - with at least eighty percent chance of making it out alive. But this, _this_ was torture. She didn't do hikes, and she didn't enjoy the idea of becoming some wild animal's breakfast. The fact that Spencer was doubling over in laughter spiked her anger and when other customers started turning heads, her face took on a slight shade of red.

"Spencer," she hissed before putting some distance between herself and her wife. Perhaps people wouldn't make the link, and believe Spencer was there on her own - being crazy on her own.

"Ash," Spencer hiccupped, her face red and tear-streaked, her voice hoarse as she panted to catch her breath.

"Spence, honey, are you okay?" Arthur asked, oblivious of the situation. He dropped the items in his hands and rushed over towards his daughter, fearing the worst.

But Spencer shrugged her father off, stepping back to give herself some space as she tried to recollect herself. Ashley looked bewildered, and she suddenly felt bad for her behavior. Because once she opened her mouth, this little episode was going to start all over again - and at the expense of her wife.

"I'm okay," she finally managed, calming down enough to take a step towards Ashley. If she needed to grovel, she'd do that in a heartbeat.

"Are you sure? Because I'm sensing a mid-life crisis here," Ashley spat out, her arms crossing, still feeling the sting of Spencer laughing at her. For _no_ reason at all.

"Ash," Spencer pleaded, her eyes tearing up - not because of sadness, but because she could hardly contain herself. She stepped into Ashley's personal space, deciding that she'd save her wife the humiliation. Leaning into her, lips slightly touching Ashley's angered-flushed ears, Spencer smiled as she explained her deranged little outburst just seconds ago.

"Those are not weapons. It's fishing rods."

* * *

Ashley decided - without telling Spencer, because then they'd have to do this _all the time_ \- that she quite enjoyed the short two-mile hike, the setting up of camp, and even the fly-fishing lessons Arthur offered. She was terrified that he ended up itching everywhere, scared that she would too after setting foot in the cool but clear running water. Still though… Ashley was unwilling to admit that all of this made her feel extremely calm, and exceptionally creative. All she wanted to do was grab an acoustic guitar and roast marshmallows and let her voice tame the wild animals out there.

But, always being a bit of a _cautionist_ \- her version of an optimist behaving with caution - she knew this calm was one of those before a storm. She could sense it in Spencer's behavior, she could sense it in Arthur's behavior, she could even feel it within herself. While they've had the most amazing day in a long time - especially with one of the Carlin parents - Ashley knew this was all either to soften a huge blow for Spencer, or Arthur must have done something terrible, something _unforgivable_.

A deep yawn from the older Carlin grabbed her attention as they sat by the campfire, eager to taste their catch of the day; a trout she'd caught herself. Arthur had meticulously cleaned and spiced it while Spencer took to making sandwiches. Ashley felt content at the ridiculous amount of pictures she'd taken in just one day; it was hard not to, with the way her wife was so _happy_.

"Dad, do you want to go lie down for a bit? I'll grill the fish, I've done one of these babies before," Spencer offered, also having taken note.

They were both surprised when her father took her up on the offer. Spencer's eyes met Ashley's, and she found herself biting down on her unhealed bottom lip to keep herself from panicking.

"If you girls don't mind? I've been up way longer than the two of you. They should make it illegal to sleep in after seven AM," Arthur chuckled halfheartedly. His eyes were droopy and they'd have to be completely blind not to notice the exhaustion on his face.

"Sure, I'll wake you up when dinner's ready." Spencer watched her father get up wearily, disappearing into his small tent seconds later.

* * *

Ashley couldn't help holding her breath as she listened to her father-in-law cough painfully. The last thing she wanted to do was freak Spencer out by seeming overly alert about it, but it was already too late, she felt her wife burying herself into her chest, trying to drown out what they were hearing.

Ashley closed her eyes, feeling tears pool up behind closed lids. They've been wondering and sharing thoughts and fears about what the divorce was all about, figuring whatever it was could be overcome some way or another. But reality have been staring them in the eyes all along, _all day_ long. They just chose to ignore the signs, hoping that come the next morning, things could still be light and happy and filled with _denial_.

For Spencer's sake, because Ashley couldn't bear the thought of breaking her wife's heart, she clenched her jaw as tight as she could to keep herself from saying it out loud, from having to hurt the woman who was slowly shrinking into her very skin as the coughing continued one tent over.

Spencer knew it the moment her father admitted he was tired. She'd casually browsed through all the photos and _selfies_ she'd taken throughout the day; checking for signs, checking for physical clues - not to prove her theories right, but in hope to prove herself _wrong_. But it was all there, the weight loss, the exhaustion, the slightly off-color tint of his skin, the coughing, the itchiness… It wasn't normal. Not even to mention the Pacific Wheel, the arcade rides, the roller-skating, the spontaneous _camping..._ none of what they've been going through the past two days were _normal_.

And now, within the confines of their own tent, where her father thought they were sound asleep, she could hear it so clearly.

Her theory was also further substantiated by the way Ashley's teeth grinded, her heart raced, and her grip tightened around her, making it hard for Spencer to breathe. Ashley was hearing it too, confirming that Ashley knew what she knew.

"He's dying, isn't he?" Spencer whispered tearfully, soaking Ashley's shirt the very second the words finally escaped her battered lips.

* * *

The coffee tasted bitter, the breakfast tasted bitter, _life_ tasted bitter as Ashley sat and stared at her broken wife and sickly father-in-law.

When they got up - too early according to the Davies-household standard - there was no need for any validity. Ashley and Spencer joined Arthur alongside the campfire where he sat warming his hands, his sleeping bag tightly wrapped around his bony frame. The coughing hadn't stopped, neither had the itching, and his face, along with his hands, were freakishly yellow.

"Cirrhosis of the liver. About two months ago. We thought I had time, I honestly thought there would be enough time to get on a transplant list despite my age, and that I could get Mom and you kids together and break the news gently. But uh, it progressed, way too quickly, and -"

"Wait, Mom doesn't _know_?"

The uncertainty and misplaced anger was back, and Ashley had to grab onto Spencer's hand with lightning speed to try and keep her grounded.

"Spence, things have been happening so fast and then Ben showed up and -"

"So, you find out you're sick and the way you tell us all is by divorcing Mom, and then you have the audacity to rope _Ben_ into this?"

Spencer felt her body shake in anger and disbelief, her vision blurring somewhat as she tried to digest the news. All through the night she'd worried about what it could be, about how serious it was, and why things already looked so _bad_ before her father as much as _talked_ to her.

"Spence," Ashley cautioned softly, feeling the sting as short nails dug into her hand for the umpteenth time in just three days. As much as she was angry and confused too, she knew what it felt like to lose a father, and getting angry now instead of spending every precious minute with her dad, would ultimately tip Spencer off the edge when it was too late to fix things.

Spencer wanted to ignore Ashley, wanted to shut her voice out and wanted to get up and run away until her lungs begged for air, burning, on fire like it already was inside her aching chest. And then run some more, until no-one in this world could ever find her again. But the grip on her hand - or was that her heart? - was tight - _inhumanly_ tight - making it impossible to even _move_.

Several things happened at once; she felt tears, so many of them. She heard her father's voice, a voice that taught her ABC's, a voice that taught her how to count, a voice that reprimanded and grounded her, a voice that taught her morals, a voice that soothed her fears and a voice that encouraged her all the time. A parental voice that loved her.

She could smell him; his natural scent of Dad, his trusty Old Spice that's been a favorite birthday present every year, the whiff of firewood in his clothes and in his hair.

She could feel him; strong though bony. Warm, so incredibly warm, despite his frozen hands. And protective, like he had been all her life.

And then, liked she'd wished _so_ hard for three _days_ ago already, the world around her blissfully disappeared.


	4. Bargaining

**A/N: There are some inaccuracies with regards to testing times which I apologize for especially to people who'd been in this situation, but the timeline would otherwise be dragged out far too long.**

 **With regards to the anxiety… for those who don't know, when a panic attack happens your mind really runs away with you and you become irrational. The physical symptoms are more or less what you'd see on TV.**

* * *

 **GirlsOnly – Anger I : Thank you for the review! I really wanted to bring in the characters' history because at some points like I mentioned, they may be a little AU. And then I also didn't end up writing the part where Ashley and Madison have an epic fallout, but it's not too late! When Ashley and Paula had that fight in the restaurant, I didn't want Spencer to run off initially, but I wanted to bring the point across that her mother's opinion (or basically a child's instinct to want approval from their parents) would always matter to her, so it terrified her to appear 'weak' if she had to have a panic attack right there. So she ran, and Ashley was upset because she was scared. Yes she was also wrong, but it's Ashley's natural instinct to protect Spencer, and that's what she did.**

 **Southtrash – Anger I : Thank you for the review! I was glad to read that the way I wrote how Ashley felt could actually be 'felt' by the readers. Always aiming to please lol. Hope you have the tissues ready for this one!**

 **K1989 – Anger I : Thank you for the review! Haha I think I opened a can of worms here. I have nothing against Paula, but… every story of mine seems to need a terrible antagonist! This time mother dearest got the part! Hope you enjoy this chapter, I think Ashley has been a super amazing wife in this fic ;)**

 **ToriDub – Anger I : Thank you for the review! Paula will never ever ever be right about Ashley. Well, unless she agrees with the rest of the world and see how awesome she is :) I'm getting excited to ready everybody's been feeling it. This following chapter might just top that one!**

 **SonFan – Anger I : Thank you for the review! If you think** ** _that_** **one was intense… this one might just take the cake. And yes, Paula… love to hate her! Enjoy! (the chapter, not the cake ;P )**

 **SON4LIFE – Anger I : Thank you for the review! I love reading that everybody's emotions are running high on this one! Ashley loves Spencer, as easy as that. Like in SoN, she might not always do it the right way, but she will always protect Spencer ;)**

 **Guest – Anger I : Thank you for the review! I agree, it was intense! But this following chapter could possibly outrank that one. Maybe not on anger but definitely pull some tears. Who knows. Enjoy!**

 **ToriDub – Anger II : Thank you for the review! And the compliments ;) Hope your finals went well and that this wasn't a distraction! I'd feel guilty! Yes, sadly, this entire fic is actually about the big reveal of Arthur's health situation, and also how things uncover when people find out shocking news and obviously how they deal with it. As you'll discover in this chapter too. Paula does find out – in this chapter – but I'm going to let you read it to see her reaction. Grab some tissues for this one!**

 **LookAtMyLegs – Anger II : Thank you for the review! Very interesting name btw! Thank you for the compliments and yes, Paula will get what she deserves, maybe not in this chapter, maybe not even in this story, but the thought will linger. Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's long and a bit emotional – so be ready!**

 **SoNFan – Anger II : Thank you for the review! Yes, well, it was all very planned, and it's what the story is all about. Actually, it's something else, and it will be revealed in this chapter, but yes, Arthur's health situation is what it revolves around lol. Hope you enjoy this one!**

 **Southtrash – Anger II : Thank you for the review! Yeah, it hurts to kill off a good character. I know everyone's waiting for Kelly to die a slow death in Ghost but you'll all have to cry over Arthur in this one first. Bohahaha. Hope you enjoy this one!**

 **GirlsOnly – Anger II : Thank you for the review! I also kinda chuckled at the fishing rod thing, had no idea where it came from but I could** ** _so_** **see that happen! Unfortunately the jokes are over and sadness is going to settle in the next chapter, so be prepared!**

 **Guest – Anger II : Thank you for the review! I know that was sad, and I think this next chapter is actually even worse. You'll have to read to find out ;)**

 **Guest – Anger II : Thank you for the review! I'm really sorry for the long wait, I'll never abandon my fics and I don't let you all suffer on purpose I promise! Paula will get what she deserves, we'll have to see when we get there!**

* * *

 **Thank you all for your continued support and waiting patiently (or maybe very impatiently) for updates; it's been a really tough couple of months and hopefully things will ease into normalcy again soon. But here's the next chapter; I got sad while writing it, especially the end. And had to grab for tissues. But maybe that's just me. I don't know. Let's see how you guys get through it!**

* * *

 **Bargaining**

For the briefest moment, Ashley found herself unable to move, to react, to breathe. It was only when Arthur's repeated chants of _Spencer_ started clearing through the fog of her brain that she realized what had just happened.

The pressure of nails digging into her hand had vanished, Spencer's hand completely limp in hers. It made her hold on even tighter, as if the connection was a lifeline to her unconscious wife. She knew in a way it was.

"Ash -"

"Hospital. I'm taking you both to a hospital, _right now_ ," Ashley decided firmly as she jumped up, realizing that Arthur looked even worse than a few minutes ago. She didn't care about his current treatment plan, she didn't care that he insisted he was fine. She also didn't care that the emergency rooms would only end up referring Spencer to a therapist again. None of the healthcare professionals were right here with her to witness what she was seeing right now. To share her agonizing pain and helplessness towards the people she loved and the situation they were in.

Ashley's heart was in her throat as she looked down at her pale wife, panic rising in her own chest as she took in the shallow breathing, the clamminess, the sunken eyes. It was nothing she hadn't seen before, but the added fainting spell was a first and she had no idea how to keep herself from completely freaking out.

She reached out to cup Spencer's cheek with a shaky hand, tears resting at the bottom of her eyelids. "Spence, baby, please wake up," Ashley pleaded urgently.

Spencer felt positively sick. She fought the urge to vomit and pursed her lips together, finding her rising anxiety settling somewhat by breathing heavily through her nose. It didn't help that she was lying flat on her back, staring up at a skewed perspective of the surrounding tree trunks and a forest of treetops and sky in between. She wasn't sure whether the clamminess, despite her chilled body, meant she was going to throw up anyway.

A familiar face hovered above her, and as it moved closer into her peripheral view, a mixture of her own and Ashley's warm tears dropped onto her cheeks.

"I was so worried," Ashley croaked out, gently swiping her cheeks with her thumbs.

"Spence?"

Spencer's heart fluttered a little at the sound of her father's voice. In the confusing situation she found herself in, she didn't expect him to be around. She let go of Ashley's hand to try and push herself up, but the nausea came back tenfold with a tingling sensation of dizziness.

"Wait, don't get up," he cautioned, and Spencer felt temporarily relieved, her senses much more at ease while she was horizontal to the ground. It also seemed to trigger her memory a little, much to her dismay.

"What happened?" Spencer whimpered, feeling pathetic for being so weak while her father appeared so strong despite the news he broke to them. After that everything became pretty much a blur for her.

"You fainted," Ashley informed her wife, her heart aching to see Spencer looking so utterly lost. She grabbed back onto her hand while Arthur took the other, meticulously pressing a finger to her wrist to take her pulse. "She's going to be okay, right?"

"I believe so," Arthur nodded, but his facial expression spoke a different language. "It's best we go get her checked out, though."

* * *

Ashley hated the fact that the best doctors in LA was at the very same hospital Paula was stationed at. Chances were that they would most probably run into her, since the accomplished trauma surgeon's now ex-husband was well known around the hospital. She didn't really want to be around when Paula found out the truth about Arthur, unsure what the hardened woman's reaction would be. A small part of her wanted to cling onto the hope that Paula still had a heart, still loved her husband, still loved her children enough to care about their incredibly painful loss looming ahead. As much as she wanted to see _that_ part of her mother-in-law, she also selfishly wanted to see Paula care about the things happening to Spencer, despite her wife's claims that she was okay.

Her eyes focused on the hesitant porters hovering at the back door of Arthur's SUV, ears perking when she heard father and daughter argue about who needed medical attention. It was a comical affair listening to them, but seeing the condition they were in changed the perspective entirely.

"You need to help both of them. My wife suffers from PTSD and fainted, and my father-in-law has aggressive liver cancer."

The hairs in her neck raised as a shrill voice behind her gasped out: _"What?"_

And there it was. Ashley's breath hitched when she realized she was the unfortunate one to break the devastating news. As if Paula didn't hate her enough already.

"Arthur, what is she talking about?"

Spencer was suddenly very thankful to be guided down into a wheelchair - even though just mere seconds ago she refused to be treated like an invalid. Her knees felt weak, a mixture between shock and stressful anticipation about how this scenario would play out.

As much as she wanted to talk on behalf of her father, who seemed just as in need of a wheelchair as she was, she knew this was something that had to come from him. Maybe then her mother would understand, would convince him to seek a second opinion, would convince him that he had a fighting chance. Maybe then her mother wouldn't go through with the divorce, and instead stand by her father's side.

She was hopeful, but also fearful.

What if her mother _didn't_ understand? What if her mother saw her father's illness in the same light she saw Spencer's stress disorder? As a _weakness_.

"It's true. Spencer fainted, she needs help. You know what could happ-"

Ashley's heart plummeted as Paula completely ignored Spencer and pushed about Arthur's condition.

"Spencer will live." Paula took a deep breath and broadcasted her irritation with a huffed out breath. "Now, what was _she_ talking about?"

A long, slender finger pointed towards the person who least deserved to be pulled into the devastating Carlin family drama.

" _She_ has a name," Spencer raised her voice. She refused to let her mother destroy everything good in her life with all her own bitterness. And she absolutely refused to let Ashley down ever again. "Ashley. Her name is _Ashley_."

Spencer ignored the sudden onset of dizziness from standing abruptly from the wheelchair, and swiftly made her way to her wife's side. There wasn't even enough time for Ashley to blink; before anyone could really register what was happening, Spencer cupped Ashley's cheeks and pulled her in for a fierce kiss.

Ashley had no idea teleportation from hell to heaven could be that fast. Her breath caught in her throat as Spencer refused to let go, a peck on the lips to spite Paula turning into a full-on open-mouthed intense kiss that left her own knees weak and the hospital staff gawking. Thoroughly enjoying the free spank bank show, but gawking.

It was over as soon as it started though, and with a heartfelt look towards Ashley, Spencer faced her mother again, her knees slightly buckling, pulse racing, and breath completely ragged. The love turned into anger and desperation, her voice raw as she spoke.

"Her name is Ashley Davies, and she is my _wife_. You don't need to approve it, you don't need to accept it, you don't need to do anything else but help my father into the emergency room and get him the treatment he needs. He's got aggressive liver cancer, as my _wife_ stated, and I would like for someone to have him checked out and also to see if I would qualify as a donor."

"Spence-"

It was a chorus of voices but the only one that mattered was the one with so much love and so much affection and so much reverence. Her eyes met Ashley's and she could see the tears pooling up on the bottom lids.

"Spencer," her father urged softly.

But Spencer was having none of it. "It's either right here, right now, or I'm taking you back home with us to a hospital that's willing to help."

A second bystander had joined them to see what the commotion was all about, and Ashley smirked as the older lady quickly expressed her authority as head of the ER, ordering the porters to escort father and daughter in immediately.

"Doctor Carlin, you're needed in OR 2 for observation of a procedure, we'll take things from here and keep you updated. Your family is in good hands." The head of ER turned to Ashley with a sympathetic smile. "Mrs. Davies, could you assist with some personal details of your wife? I can assure you that we take her condition very seriously."

* * *

It's been over two hours since they arrived at the hospital and Ashley was getting antsy and extremely worried.

She fidgeted with her phone while seated in the general waiting area, pondering over whether she should call for emotional backup.

Both Kyla and Aiden still lived in Los Angeles, and she knew that Glen probably deserved to know what was going on too.

Deep down Ashley knew there were only two options for Arthur; either they found a matching donor or he'd spend his limited time left with his children. She wasn't sure whether Paula would ever come around.

Spencer was a complete different story. It was the unknown that had her so nervous; though they've been dealing with the anxiety quite successfully for so long, Arthur's words of caution had her on edge. There was a long term effect the PTSD had on Spencer and the professionals seemed hesitant to admit or talk about it.

Spencer's wish to check if she was a match and quite possibly donating part of or even an entire liver, although very noble, was another big issue. Ashley knew if her wife ended up a match there would be no way in talking her out of it or at least researching and considering the risks. She wouldn't want to anyway; had their roles been reversed she would have done anything in her power to keep her own father alive.

But what scared Ashley most was the effect it would have on Spencer if she wasn't a match. She would be devastated. It was that fear that made her realize she'd promised her wife to always support her, and she'd made a promise to Arthur to always look after his girl. Perhaps she could do more than that; she was willing to try and keep Arthur in her life for longer too.

* * *

Spencer felt groggy and confused for a moment, unsure whether the prodding and x-rays and blood tests and urine tests had all just been part of a twisted dream, or if the IV needle restricting movement of her left arm and a soft beep lulling her back into semi-consciousness were actually real.

"Hey sleepyhead."

Spencer relaxed immediately at the sound of the raspy voice that had her heart flutter ever since she was seventeen. It suddenly didn't matter where she was anymore, as long as she had Ashley by her side.

"You feeling okay?"

Ashley held her breath as Spencer slowly took stock of her situation, her own nerves frayed like the end of an electrical cord. They were headed towards the fifth hour and still no word from the doctors.

Kyla and Aiden were sitting patiently outside the ward in a small waiting room, while Glen and Madison had gone up to see Arthur on the high care floor.

"I'm uh, I'm okay, I guess. Where's my dad?"

Ashley swallowed hard, her heart breaking at the uncertainty seeping through Spencer's voice. She clung tighter onto the warm hand in hers, wishing she could channel all the emotional strength and encouragement she possessed to her wife through skin touching skin. "He's been admitted to high care. They're doing some tests and his hepatologist and oncologist have been notified. There are some other specialists present to advise on second opinions as well."

Spencer wasn't comfortable that the doctors who'd already consulted her father were called in. She wanted fresh eyes, new opinions; she wanted a solid, guaranteed solution to keep her father alive. "And my tests?"

Her eye caught the cotton wool taped in the crooked of her right elbow. She remembered vaguely how the needle stung as the lab staff drew vial after vial of blood. Blood that could potentially prove that she could offer her father a fighting chance.

"The doctor should probably be here in a bit, he said you'd be asleep for a couple of hours." Ashley's brows raised immediately as Spencer tried to sit up; most likely to demand the doctor come see her right away, or worse, jump out of the bed and go find him herself. She tightened her grip on Spencer's hand - almost sternly - to calm her down. "You needed the rest, Spence, and if I _could_ I'd put you right back to sleep. Don't be stubborn, please?"

Spencer's brow furrowed in guilt as her wife's pleads sunk in. She wanted so badly to just close her eyes and sleep like Ashley wanted, but her father needed her. Her _mother_ needed her. She could still fix this for them.

Ashley watched Spencer retaliate in uncertainty, sinking back into the pillows fluffed behind her. "I know you're anxious to see your dad, I am too. But it won't help him if you're putting yourself at risk too. The best way you can help at the moment is to take care of yourself. And if you can't, _I'm here_ , Spence. Lean on me, baby."

Spencer felt like she was drowning under the pressure of keeping her father alive, keeping her family together, and keeping herself healthy. It felt like there was so much expectation, as if everybody wanted something from her. But if the tests proved negative, she had nothing to offer, nothing to give her family to hold onto.

She took a deep breath, avoiding Ashley's caring eyes to try and calm herself down first.

She remembered back in school, right after Clay passed away, they sat in a church service one Sunday and the priest told a story about how people always tried to change things.

She thought of her own situation, how those words rang so true. _"You cannot change something that you have no control over."_

That was his exact words; something that helped her find a little more closure towards the loss of her brother, and the failing relationship between herself and Ashley at the time.

The warmth on her hand reminded Spencer of Ashley's presence, and she finally realized why she remembered that phrase.

There was absolutely nothing she could do about her father's aggressive liver cancer. She couldn't stop it, she couldn't cure it, unless she could offer her own liver to save her father. But even that was completely out of her control - she couldn't change it.

There was even less she could do about her mother's relationship with Ben. It had been an on-and-off thing continuing half her life without her knowledge. As much as she resented her mother for it, it wasn't _her_ relationship, it wasn't _her_ life. Only a small part of Spencer acknowledged that her mother was going to need someone by her side now more than ever; surely it was hurting her mother on some level that her father was dying. It was another situation out of her control, something she couldn't change.

And then there was Ashley. The person who'd been by her side since she was seventeen years old. She let her wife's pleads sink in on repeat, allowing her memory to drag her back to a very bittersweet time. While Spencer was on cloud nine after their first time having sex, Ashley's bubble burst the very next day when her father died in that tragic motor vehicle accident. It was in Ashley's nature to bring back the high walls and push everyone away.

Spencer remembered how it made her feel; confused, hurt, but at the same time just more determined to show Ashley that there was no way she was giving up on her - on _them_. What they shared was too special, what they had was rare and as new as it was for her, so was it for the girl who just wanted to be loved by someone.

"Please don't push me away. Let me help you," Ashley pleaded again, her voice cracking, eyes shimmering with tears.

 _"_ _You cannot change something that you have no control over."_

This was something Spencer had control over. Though it was difficult to deal with all the overwhelming emotions and trying to work through the pain, how she treated Ashley and accepted her wife's support was something Spencer could change. Could control. She wasn't the only one who was scared; Ashley's fears of not being needed lingered close to the surface, no thanks to both their mothers. She knew it was the one thing her wife would always seek validation for. It was a vulnerable side of Ashley that Spencer would protect with her life.

It put everything back in perspective for Spencer; the things she had control over and the things she didn't. There was no need to drown; all she had to do was look up into Ashley's eyes. It was all the comfort she ever needed.

She finally squeezed Ashley's hand in return, admitting she couldn't do this by herself. Whatever the outcome of her tests were, she was going to need Ashley equally either way.

"Ah, Mrs. Davies, you're awake! And very stubborn, I see. The medication we gave you were supposed to knock you out until tonight."

Ashley chuckled in agreement, trying hard to ignore the pounding of her heart against her ribcage. Whatever the doctor had to say, she was praying he wasn't going to drag it out.

"Let's start with your Anxiety Disorder first, shall we?"

Spencer was instantly annoyed as the doctor purposefully avoided the more pressing matters to focus on something that didn't matter at all. Like her mother said, she would live. She couldn't help but agree with her for the first time in years.

"From the information we've received from your wife, I understand you're being treated for PTSD and anxiety disorder, or as we all know it, panic attacks. When did this start?"

Spencer felt her heart clench at just the mere thought of having to relive that moment when gunshots started echoing through her ears. "I was nineteen, the incident happened when I was seventeen."

Ashley watched the doctor nod thoughtfully as he scanned through a manila file resting on the chart trolley at the foot point of Spencer's bed.

"And your age now, is thirty?"

"Yeah."

"Right. Mrs. Davies," the doctor sighed, closing the file, clasping his hands together. "I want to explain to you what happens to your body when you're having a panic attack, and how it could affect you in the long run. While mentally the PTSD may feel like it's improved, physically, the panic attacks in particular, will eventually take a toll on your body and slowly start changing things, putting you in certain risk categories."

For the second time that day, Ashley felt the world around her come to a complete standstill. While she'd been preparing herself for the heartache and praying for extra strength to carry her wife through the difficulty of losing her father, the thought that Spencer's PTSD could be worse than they expected had completely slipped her mind.

Trying to hide the slight tremble in her hand, she held on tighter to Spencer's. "What kind of physical changes?"

Ashley watched the doctor's features soften, and wondered if this was going to have an effect on Spencer's donor test results. She wondered if he already knew the results.

"Let me explain what happened earlier today first. I want you to understand it all in context. Mrs. Davies, you're still young and this is reversible. What we're going to look into is mere precautions but I feel it is really important that you know what exactly happens to you during panic attacks and for instance, the fainting spell this morning."

Spencer felt a panic attack creeping up on her by just listening to the doctor. It wasn't as if she was doing this to herself - she couldn't _control_ them. So how was it possible that the long term effects could be reversible? Were they going to send her off to an institution and keep her drugged for the rest of her life in order to _reverse_ the long term effects?

The irrational image she painted for herself was terrifying. She'd never be able to have a family with Ashley. And if they did, she'd never be able to spend time with her kids. She'd grow old in a cold, grey room with a single window; decorated sparsely with family photos on her three-drawer dresser and the quilt from her grandmother adding weight to the crisp linen on the steel coiled bed with too thin a mattress. Family visits would thin out from thrice daily to maybe once a month if they remembered about her.

And soon they'd _want_ to forget about her, her presence in their lives becoming a nuisance while the new Mrs. Davies raised her children and cooked for her wife.

"...black out from traumatic events, fainting then happens when a phobic shock triggers a clash between the sympathetic nervous and the parasympathetic systems. One is responsible for the body's fight-or-flight response, while the other is responsible for the body's rest-and-digest response. The clash both slows down the heart rate and causes blood vessels to expand, decreasing blood pressure and starving the brain of oxy-"

Ashley felt the familiar painful half moon indents digging into her hand before the doctor paused mid sentence, and her heart constricted at the sight.

"Spence? It's going to be okay, just breathe baby, deep breaths." The lump in her throat made it impossible for Ashley to sound as strong as she usually did. The news, while not entirely bad, was just as upsetting for her and it eventually felt as if everything was just spiraling out of control.

"Mrs. Davies? I need you to try and take a very deep breath for me, I know it's hard, but can you try for us?"

Spencer nodded through the tears, trying bravely to show them that she still had some fight in her - it was too soon to send her off to a mental institute. And way too soon to talk about risk factors to her health because she was still young and healthy enough to donate a liver to her dad.

"I'm going to administer hydrocortisone for fast treatment of the anxiety; I understand that this is a very difficult time for your family and while I'd like to get her through this without _more_ medication, her body is going to shut down on her if we don't do something."

Ashley could only nod, her heart pounding in her ears as she watched a nurse rush into the room, assisting the doctor to pull a mask over Spencer's face and inject the required medication into a rubber valve of the IV still stuck in Spencer's arm.

Tears were leaking from the sides of Spencer's eyes as she concentrated hard to get her breathing under control and ease out of the panic clutching at her chest. But nothing she did helped; even after the nurse supplied additional oxygen, her chest muscles would just not relax to enable her lungs to fill with air. She turned to Ashley in desperation, the iron grip on her organs squeezing even tighter when all she saw was tears.

"You're going to be okay, I've got you Spence. It's going to be okay," Ashley reassured her wife, unable to hold back the tears. It was devastating to see someone suffering like that, it was even more devastating to see her strong - and stubborn - wife succumb to something that was so out of her control.

"The medication will react soon and she'll get drowsy; encourage your wife not to fight it, Mrs. Davies. She absolutely needs rest right now; I'm booking her in for the night for observation so feel free to go get some fresh air while she sleeps. You can go up to see Mr. Carlin too, if you're up to it."

"Wait, what about the rest? I need to know where to go from here, doctor. How can we stop the attacks from affecting Spencer so badly?" Ashley asked hysterically, her resolve to stay strong completely crumbling.

The doctor smiled sadly and rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Let her sleep, go get some fresh air, and when you come back, ask at the nurse station outside to page me. It's really not as bad as you think, Mrs. Davies. Spencer is young, and apart from this difficult time, you've stated that she doesn't get panic attacks often. I just want to explain the risks to you. And also how it affects the results of becoming a potential donor."

Ashley finally understood why the doctor wanted to discuss the risks.

She had a sinking feeling Spencer was going to get her heart broken into a million pieces.

Sighing, she turned her attention back to her wife, relieved that Spencer had passed out. She hated seeing her like that, so small and vulnerable, but being asleep was so much healthier for her for the time being. She was over exhausted and the stress of her father's illness and the incredibly cold behavior from her mother was more than her soft heart could take.

"Ash?"

Her head jerked up at the familiar voice whispering in the door.

As much as she didn't want to, Ashley knew getting some fresh air would be the best thing to do. Or at least coffee. Coffee was the answer to everything.

She left a kiss on her wife's forehead and ensured she was comfortable before following Kyla out of the room.

* * *

The matching cotton wool balls taped to their forearms was the icebreaker; Ashley couldn't think of a single insult to throw Madison's way while all of them sat and waited in anticipation to hear if there was a chance any of them could save Arthur Carlin.

Her eyes refused to leave the cup in her hands, the same cup of coffee she'd been nursing for the past hour in the hospital cafeteria. She missed Spencer's coffee. And she missed Spencer's company.

Not even the presence of her sister or her lifelong friend was enough to cheer her up.

Madison, Kyla and Aiden tried to keep the conversation going but she couldn't find anything to say, and neither did Glen. He was as mute as she was.

"Hey, you want to go check in with my dad?" Glen asked softly, completely ignoring the nervous chatter of the other three.

Ashley chanced a glance at her brother-in-law, saddened by his dull eyes and features looking as if he'd aged overnight. "I don't know if I'm ready yet," she admitted. She wished so badly she could run up to Arthur's room and tell him they were going to save him, but the unknown had her frozen in fear. She was so scared to see him, frail and weak like earlier in the morning, and vulnerable like his daughter a couple of floors below his high care unit.

"He really loves you, you know. You're like a second daughter to him."

Glen's words brought instant tears to her eyes. It meant everything to hear that after Paula was practically trying to disinfect herself from Ashley every time they saw each other.

"Thank you. Spencer really needs her brother too. I know you guys don't talk a lot, but she misses you."

Glen's eyes brightened for a brief moment. "Really?"

Ashley frowned, wondering where and when everything had gone wrong so badly in the Carlin family. Glen had always been an idiot, a boyish idiot just like Aiden, but he was Spencer's older brother, and the bond they had growing up wasn't supposed to ever break so badly over the years. After Clay's death, Ashley thought Glen had accepted Spencer and her lifestyle and the choices she made. But sometime during Spencer's time at UCLA, and especially after they moved to Seattle, things just changed.

Ashley realized for the first time that perhaps it was all Paula's doing. She hated thinking that way, but the way Glen's face lit up she knew he didn't choose to write off his sister like that.

"Yeah, it's been eating away at her that you guys have lost touch," she pressed on.

"But I thought…" Glen took a deep breath and shook his head sadly. "After Clay, the PTSD and panic attacks… I thought she was just that way because she missed him."

Ashley choked on dry air. "Are you fucking _kidding_ me?" She didn't mean to lose her temper, or raise her voice. "It's not a way Spencer _is_ , Glen. We're not talking about her sexuality here. It's a medical _condition_. Do you know what PTSD even _means_? Do you _remember_ the night of the shooting?"

"No, I try _not_ to," Glen retorted angrily.

"Well, good for you! But Spencer? Every other night when she goes to sleep she relives that moment as if it's happening all over again. She can't switch it off and get over it like we all did. She can't just push it to the back of her mind and _not_ get freaked out every time she hears tires screech or loud clapping noises. She can't stop the panic attacks and she can't help that it happened to her! You all recovered okay from it, Aiden you were messed up for a while but you're okay now, right? But Spencer's not. And it can't be fixed, _ever_. We have to live with it, I have to live with it and support her and get her through it because it seems I'm the only damn person who cares! So much for fucking family."

"Ashley-" Kyla warned softly.

Ashley's chair scraped against the linoleum floor as she got up. "No! I'm done with this. I'll be up in Spencer's room. Call me when they have any news on the results."

* * *

"I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how to be strong and not lose it at the same time. Glen's going to hate me even more now."

"Ashley."

She wiped the constant flow of tears from her puffy eyes, her face red and probably streaked with mascara remnants. It wasn't her intention to cry it all out to the person who had no capacity to deal with other people's emotional drama, but in the elevator up to Spencer's floor, she found herself pressing a different floor button instead. She couldn't find it in her heart to be so broken in front of her wife who needed all the rest she could get.

"You know Glen's an idiot, right? I love him like a son but -"

She chuckled through the tears, amazed that even though his time was so limited, Arthur Carlin would always try to put a smile on someone else's face. "He _is_ your son."

"Oh? It must be the old age then," he teased, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he offered her a bright smile.

It only made Ashley cry more. "How do you do it? How are you smiling and so positive as if…" Her voice died in her throat, a frown marring her forehead as she struggled to say it out loud.

A warm hand covered hers, and Ashley found herself overcome with incredible sadness as she stared at her father-in-law.

"Have you ever heard of the five stages of grief?"

She nodded, remembering a similar conversation between herself and Arthur when her own father passed away.

"Good, then you'll understand why things happened the way it did. Ash, the first part is always the hardest. Denial is a dangerous thing and for me, I lived there for a long time. But because I did that in solitude, I hope that it spared everybody else from realizing there's nothing that could be done. It was already aggressive the moment I found out. Seeing the way Paula treats Spencer, I think that would have painted a different picture for me if she treated me the same way."

Ashley bit into her lip to try and stop the tears, but it was to no avail. It was so difficult to hear this strong and always positive man speak out loud about his fears.

"Anger, the next stage, drives families apart and I wish I could have prevented that, but unfortunately it's how human emotions work. Not always necessarily in the same order, but all five emotions is a given. Everybody is angry, I know Spence is upset because she found out so late. Paula is in shock, she left the room crying - from _anger_. You're angry, because you feel helpless and things are so much more complicated because I'm suffering, Spence is suffering, and in the meantime you have to deal with people who keep hurting you. Glen is angry with me, with Paula, with Spencer; he's been angry for a very long time. I think most of all he's been angry with himself. He's always leaned more towards Paula where Spencer couldn't find fault in me. And it's driven such a wedge between him and his sister. And I'm angry, because all of this is driving my family apart instead of bringing them closer. But I'm not angry at the situation anymore. I'm not angry at God anymore. I've lived my life, Ash. I enjoyed every moment of it, and I couldn't be more proud of my family, my children. You're one of them, Ash. You know that, right?"

She nodded mutely, the lump in her throat impossibly large. The warm hand covering hers gave a tight squeeze, and it felt so ironic to Ashley; receiving the same encouragement and support from the man whose daughter she would love and support for the rest of her life.

"Then there's bargaining," Arthur smiled sadly. He pointed towards the cotton wool on her forearm, his eyes tearing up for the first time since he broke the heart wrenching news. "It's when we find that renewed energy, positive that we could bring change to the situation. When Spence announced she wanted to be tested to donate, I…" He stopped for a moment to swallow back the tears and it had Ashley's heart in a vice grip. "I was so damn proud. But do you know what was even _more_ touching?"

Ashley shook her head, unable to breathe through the pain of watching a grown man cry.

"When all my children, even Kyla and Aiden and _Madison_ , showed up with that very same evidence that blood tests were taken. Because my second favorite daughter sent in reinforcements, trying _everything_ she can to save this old man's life. Raife would be _so_ proud, Ashley."

Her body finally caved in, leaving Ashley to shake as she sobbed out loud. She gripped onto the hand that held hers mere seconds ago, afraid that if she let go, Arthur would too. "We're going to find you a donor, I promise. If none of us are a match, I'll fly in more people and-"

"Ashley," Arthur said softly, his voice hoarse but calm. "Even if you _did_ find a match…" He shook his head sadly, conveying the message loud and clear. "It's out of our hands. We cannot change what we cannot control."

"No-"

"Ash, I know it's hard. I know I sound like I've given up - "

"Then don't!" Ashley pleaded. " _Don't_ give up. Spencer wouldn't want you to give up. Please…"

Arthur sighed in defeat. "Let me talk to her first, okay? This is something I have to tell her."

"She's not okay, Arthur, she needs you. _We_ need you."

"It's going to be okay, Ashley. I wouldn't have approved your relationship with my girl back in junior year if I thought you wouldn't be there for her. I know she's chosen right, and I know she's looked after better than anyone else could ever have. She will be okay, because she has you, Ash. And you will be okay, because Spence's heart will only ever beat for you."

* * *

It took four hours for the tears to stop, and another two of restless pacing and nail biting until Spencer woke up.

Ashley barely had time to ensure her wife was okay before an entourage of doctors, followed by Glen, Madison, Kyla and Aiden timidly stepped into the room.

"Mrs. and Mrs. Davies, Mr. and Mrs. Carlin, Mr. and Mrs. Dennison, we have your test results."

Spencer hated the confusion lingering over her like a dark cloud every time she woke up. She frowned, wondering what the doctor was talking about. She was still trying to figure out how her brother landed up in her room, together with Madison, Kyla and Aiden. "Test results?"

Ashley's body stiffened and she stifled back a quiet sob, already knowing this was all for nothing. She had no idea how to get Spencer through this. She grabbed towards her wife's hand, squeezing tightly.

"Yes, uhm, your wife, brother, and friends offered to test for donors as well," the doctor offered gingerly, also aware that it was all futile.

Ashley didn't miss the slight nod Spencer's doctor gave to an accompanying nurse, and realized they came prepared this time to assist if Spencer were to break down. It made it all so much more real and difficult to absorb.

Spencer's head shot up and she looked at Ashley incredulously, her eyes instantly filled with tears. "You'd really do that?" she asked, her heart hammering wild against her chest as she stared at her wife in love and appreciation.

It was ripping her apart on the inside, but on the outside, Ashley offered a soft smile and nodded. "Of course I would."

"Right, uhm, since we have you all right here, I'm going to make it a once-off announcement, and then you can speak to the doctors I've brought in with us about your results in person. While our patient, Mr. Carlin, duly appreciates the effort and willingness to assist him, I unfortunately have to break the news that none of you were a successful match. There were certain criteria we looked at after finding two blood-type matches, but with further testing, the patient's body would reject any transplants. With that being said, I also want to assure you that we tested as thoroughly as we could; but Mr. Carlin's cancer is advanced, it's aggressive, and have metastasized, which means it has been spreading to other parts of his body. There's not really much we can do for him anymore."

"No," Spencer shook her head in disbelief. "No, you have to test again. Test my other organs, I'll donate whatever is humanly possible. You _have_ to help him." She refused to believe that this was it. The tears on her cheeks went unnoticed as she kept shaking her head, unable to let the news sink in.

"Mrs. Davies, I'm sorry, but-"

"Get me another doctor," Spencer pleaded. Her eyes found her brother's, and more hope surged through her. "Glen, we have to help him. We can help him," she sobbed.

Ashley forced herself to look away as the Carlin siblings stared at each other helplessly, the pain on their faces equally devastating.

"Spence," Glen finally croaked out, making his way closer to her bed. Spencer wasn't sure why she felt so terrified that he was there. The last time they were close to each other was when Clay died. She couldn't lose her father too. A familiar tightness sat in her chest as she regarded him.

"No, if you're not going to help then I don't want you here!"

"Spencer," Glen tried again, grabbing onto her free hand, finally pushing her over that edge right into reality. "There's nothing we can do for him."

Her thoughts were getting confusing, her mind flashing back to the night her mother said the very same words to her father about Clay. Gunshots rang in her ears and her body shook, but somewhere in there she could still hear Ashley and Glen trying to get her back.

"Just relax, just _breathe_ , Mrs. Davies, you're going to be okay."

Spencer tried to fight the dizziness and then the onset of drowsiness, but whatever they gave her was too strong for her. "We can help him," she sobbed desperately through the mask covering her mouth, succumbing to sleep within seconds for the third time that day.


	5. Depression

**A/N: I know it's already more than a year later, but this has been an incredibly difficult fic to write. Thanks to everyone who still follows the story! There's only one chapter left, not as long, and definitely not as heavy.**

* * *

 **SoNFan – CH4 : Yes, sadly no-one were matches, and oh the irony it would have been if Paula could have come to the rescue! She is however, (I'm sorry Paula, but also not entirely!), an absolute antagonist in this fic. In reality, we just never know the truth in parents' words and we're left grasping towards meaning behind their actions instead. As Spencer will come to realize. True story. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

 **Southtrash – CH4 : You and me both. I do know what those terrible attacks feel like, though. And if readers can feel what I was trying to convey then I feel I've done a decent job ;) Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

 **ToriDub – CH4 : You, speechless for review? That was a first lol ;) It did suck that no-one were matches, I guess we have to accept sometimes that we can't dictate where life takes us, no matter how hard we try to take total control. I don't know if I can classify this chapter as intense, but it is heavy and was difficult to write (only took an entire year, no biggie!), so… here goes! Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

 **GirlsOnly – CH4 : I know, I know, apologies for slow updates are overrated, but here's a sorry anyway. Here's that 4th stage of grief you were looking for, thank goodness the last stage is much more uplifting! Thank you for all the compliments, I don't feel like I deserve it – whenever I reread posted chapters I cringe at all the mistakes! I know the SoN fics are thinning out and I wish I could write so much more and more often, I feel like I'll be one of those diehard fans for the rest of my life who will only ever write SoN even if there's no more readers left lol. Let's hope to more writing then, shall we? Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

 **Depression**

 _There's no such thing_ , she thought bitterly as her eyes focused sharply on the feminine hand gently touching her sleeping daughter's face. A chill ran down her spine and she shook to rid herself of the image in front of her.

It was disgusting.

She wished she knew where things had gone so wrong in their lives. Part of her knew it was mostly because of the move out of their comfortable small Catholic town in Ohio, to the filth of Los Angeles, California.

But in order to put her three children through college – always considering that however smart they were, full scholarships were never guaranteed – they had to go over their finances and see what they could do to offer their children the best opportunities at a future possible.

She loved Arthur enough to not put the pressure on him; they both knew he sacrificed an awful lot by giving up med school so she could succeed. Arthur Carlin never looked at these things as problems; he considered the twists and turns in life a huge blessing.

Glen _was_ a blessing, despite somewhat unplanned and happening too early in their lives. Arthur changed his major and became a counselor instead of joining her in the madness of hospitals and operating rooms. He took on the role of primary caregiver until she graduated, and by then, Spencer was on the way.

 _Also_ unplanned, and she wondered sometimes if maybe that's why things went wrong. Because even though Glen happened, and they married shortly after, they should have heeded the warning.

It wasn't in her strict Catholic upbringing to do things that way. Haphazardly, unplanned, and changing the way of their planned futures because they made mistakes; it was all things her mother warned her about, things her mother didn't like about Arthur. It irked her mother that Arthur was so open-minded and was open to change because he couldn't keep it in his pants.

Still, she loved Arthur dearly, and she loved her babies. She loved that Arthur made sacrifices, and she loved that she was able to keep on working on herself, working her way up to chief of surgery at their small town hospital.

For years they lived incredibly comfortable; Glen and Spencer growing up beautifully, filling their house with an abundance of love and laughter. Though she couldn't be home to spend the 'normal' amount of hours with her growing toddlers, Arthur did quite a good job at juggling work and home life. It went _so_ well that, when Arthur introduced them to Clay, age eight, adopting him was what made their family feel _complete_.

And so they carried on, growing as a family, growing as individuals. She didn't realize it then, but looking back now, she knew they were also already growing apart.

While Arthur was parent of the year, her attention shifted. Instead of admiring her husband for everything he was doing, she found herself admiring an old college friend of theirs, who also happened to be her boss.

But nothing came of it; before they could start anything intimate, Ben moved away, and she was left behind, forcing her to pay more attention to her family.

However wrong it was, she felt righteous about the situation. Ben's belief system was as strong as hers, if not stronger. Her mother would have loved him. And perhaps, if she'd just gone for what she'd wanted back then already, she wouldn't have to swallow down the repulsion at what she was seeing right now.

Ben would have helped to right Spencer's wrongs. Ben would never have allowed this to happen like Arthur did. He would never have supported this sin like Arthur did. He'd be as angry as _she_ was to stand in the door and see her daughter being touched lovingly by another woman.

"Doctor Carlin?"

She cringed inward as a colleague called for her attention, and quickly stepped away from the open door to avoid giving away her presence.

"Doctor Brown, hi," she greeted him stiffly, begrudgingly feeling the sting of betrayal. She'd thought that her fellow doctors would have informed her of her husband's illness the moment they found out. And while she respected doctor-patient confidentiality, she felt let down by the system. By her colleagues. By her husband.

"Your husband is asking for you, and I'd also like to discuss the preparation of loss and grieving process with both of you."

Paula nodded and silently trotted along, wondering for the umpteenth time what she'd done _so_ wrong to deserve all of this.

First Spencer, who'd lost her way; then Glen who injured his knee and lost his chance at a professional career in sports and getting hooked on drugs; the unbearable pain of losing their eldest son in the school shooting, and then the downward spiral of her relationship with her daughter, no thanks to Ashley Davies.

* * *

Waking up in the dreadful circumstances wasn't really something she _wanted_ to do - she'd much rather have stayed in the uncomfortable fitful sleep - but when her eyelids fluttered open to stare at her sleeping wife, head on her arms imprinting the shape of bangles and a Swatch, butterflies replaced the despair Spencer was feeling, leaving a soft, loving smile on her features.

The moment her hand gently brushed through a disarrayed red-dyed fringe, Ashley's head shot up, concern written all over her face.

"Are you okay?" To this day, Ashley's voice still made her heart skip beats and washed calmness over her at the same time.

She _wasn't_ , far from it, but at some point Spencer knew she had to be strong, for both her family and Ashley.

"I'll manage, I think," she offered meekly. "Did you sleep at all?" Spencer couldn't help herself; she reached out to rearrange more stray hair before tracing the Swatch signature on her wife's cheek. It pulled an unexpected chuckle from her.

"You've got the time written all over your face," Spencer smiled.

Relief washed over Ashley at the lightness in Spencer's tone. She wasn't sure whether her wife had forgotten about everything due to trauma, or was slowly starting to come to terms with things.

She searched mesmerizing blue eyes, finding all the answers she needed. Spencer was still torn, but there was a tinge of strength begging to break through the layers of confusion and heartbreak.

Her fingers automatically laced with Spencer's, offering the support she knew her wife needed.

"Mrs. Davies? G'morning. How are you feeling? Still anxious?"

Both Ashley and Spencer looked up as Spencer's doctor made his way into the room, her manila folder clutched tightly to his chest.

"Still a bit groggy from the medication, but a lot better than yesterday," Spencer admitted shyly. She felt embarrassed by the way she couldn't work through this devastating news like any other normal person.

Aside from her cold-hearted mother, everybody else seemed to take the news more gracefully than she did. After all, she'd been admitted to hospital, sedated more than once, and still it felt like she was going to die from anxiety or heartache - whichever came first.

"That's quite normal to expect. Have you experienced any dry mouth or dizziness?"

Ashley eyed the doctor carefully, wary about the questions. Her eyes locked on Spencer for a brief second, anticipating an answer. Hopefully an answer that _wouldn't_ mean bad news.

Spencer shook her head slowly, not feeling any such symptoms at all.

Ashley's relief was evident by the way her fingers momentarily relaxed and squeezed again, still gently laced with her wife's.

"Good, that means the medication has had no side-effects and we'll be able to send you up to your father shortly. Would you like to go see him?"

Spencer's face lit up, her happiness setting Ashley's nerves at ease. But she wasn't naive; she knew the heartache was going to hit Spencer all over again once she saw Arthur. It was difficult to see him frail and without a fighting chance, despite their desperate efforts to give him more time.

Ashley had already had a taste of what Arthur looked like now - it was going to be a tremendous shock for Spencer.

"I would love that, thank you," Spencer whispered with a lump in her throat. She knew it was going to be devastating. She had no idea what to expect; part of her felt like she wouldn't be able to see her father so sick, connected to machines, looking worse than they'd seen him the previous morning.

But the other part, the more sensible part, knew she had to prepare herself to say goodbyes for there was no telling in how much time he still had left. She'd never forgive herself if she didn't get to see him - even if it was for the last time.

"We'll wait until after the breakfast run and then I'll get a nurse to escort you upstairs - unfortunately we can't remove your fluoxetine and rehydration IV just yet, so they'll take you up with a wheelchair."

Ashley saw Spencer's mouth open up to protest, but she interrupted before her stubborn wife could even utter out a peep. "Thank you, doctor. I'll have her ready after breakfast." She ignored the dirty look from Spencer and smiled politely until Spencer's doctor left the room.

"Ash –"

"I know you don't want him to see you like this," Ashley sympathized sternly. "But he knows you haven't been okay. He was there, remember? Give him the peace of mind that you're taking care of yourself. That's all he wants from you, Spence."

Fingers laced supportively with her own, and Spencer's rising irrational fear of Ashley getting fed up with her situation subsided. "Okay," she nodded tearfully, a knot high up in her throat. "Will you go with me?"

Ashley nodded, knowing that once Spencer was able to breathe upon seeing her ailing father, she'd step out and give them some space. Deep in her heart she knew this was possibly the last time they'd see Arthur Carlin alive.

* * *

"Dad!"

Spencer knew it was going to be bad, but she could never prepare herself enough to see the man who'd raised her, the man she considered her hero - her _father_ \- to ever be in such a deteriorating condition. He was hooked to too many machines, and the freakish yellow tint they'd seen the previous day wasn't a tint anymore, it was _real_.

"Spence… come closer so I can have a better look at you."

Warning bells signaled loud and clear at her father's request, and Spencer could feel how her chest started tightening at the absoluteness of it all. Part of her had hoped that by the time she could go up to see him, that he'd look healthy and at least a couple of years younger.

Ashley pushed Spencer's chair all the way up to the bed and rested her hand on her wife's shoulder, giving a supportive squeeze while her eyes met her father-in-law's in silent agreement to give them some time alone.

"I'll be right outside, okay?" Ashley planted a soft kiss on Spencer's temple and slipped out of the room before they could see her tears.

"Dad…" Spencer's voice failed her as she begged her father to assure her he was going to be okay. But there was exhaustion on his face; the way he slightly panted, the way his eyes were sunken and his smile hard to keep up. It was all tell-tale signs that despite her desperation to fight for him, there was little chance she could actually save him.

It still didn't want to sink in, however, and Spencer refused to encourage what she saw to register in her brain.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to keep this from you, or from anyone. I wish I'd done things differently."

It was hard for her to witness her father regret his own actions. He was the very person who'd taught her to live her life in such a way that she'd never feel the need to look back and want to have changed anything. And though two months sounded so trivial, it was two months she could have had to spend with her dad. Two months she'd never get back, two months she'd regret for the rest of her life too.

But the tears that came rushing down weren't from anger, or regret. Nothing mattered from here on out anymore – and _that_ was what finally registered.

"Daddy, I love you, please don't go." Spencer rose from the unnecessary wheelchair and lunged herself into her father's arms, feeling her body hiccup against him as the pain wracked through her.

"Oh, Spence." And there it was. Arthur Carlin started crumbling, finally allowing himself to cry over the pain and loss he felt as much as his family did. He clung tightly onto his youngest, wishing for the umpteenth time that he'd had more courage to share his life-threatening situation with his family – or at least with his children – the moment he found out about it. Instead, two months, sixty days, over a _thousand_ hours slipped through their fingers; over a thousand hours they could have spent together and made it count.

Worst of it all was that he wouldn't even live long enough to regret it; instead he was leaving that pain with his family – and _that_ broke him.

It broke him to have his daughter cling to him in the condition she was in and he couldn't offer her real support. He couldn't stand by her and see her through this difficult time, he couldn't stand by her and advise her what to do after she'd been treated by her doctor, he couldn't stand by her and help her stay strong when they were finally ready to start the process of creating a family of their own.

It saddened him tremendously that he would never live to see his daughters' children. He remembered the day almost a year ago when Spencer called him up, explaining her desire to share something so special with Ashley. It was evident the two of them had already had lengthy discussions about the topic, but Spencer never knew how to tell Ashley that she was truly ready.

"I'm sorry, I was trying not to cry, but I can't help it." Spencer's sobs pulled Arthur from the lists of things he'd never be able to see or do, reminding him for a split second that he still had time, feeble hours if he was lucky, but it was enough to at least tell his family that he loved them.

"You don't have to apologize, Spence. It's not exactly the best circumstances, but you know that we at least have this time together, we'll _always_ have this time together."

Spencer was trying very hard to stay positive, to at least show the strength her father knew she had in her. But it was so difficult. She had no idea how to use the scarce time to say everything she ever wanted to say to her father. She had no idea how to spend it with him the best she could. She had no idea what it even meant to make the best out of it.

A familiar tightness sat in her chest as her mind started racing over endless memories, wondering if she should relive them with her father or try to create new ones. Or should she just talk to him, about the weather and boring white walls and the amount of blocks on the roof décor? How was she supposed to make this count?

For a brief moment she wondered how Ashley would have handled it, and then the sobbing started all over again when she remembered that Ashley never had the chance to spend some last days or hours with her father. They still had a great night out, Spencer got to meet Raife for the very first time, and then he just wasn't there anymore.

It made her feel even worse for not knowing what to do with the supposed time she still had left with her own father.

"We don't have to talk, we can just be in each other's company for a bit if you want?"

Spencer was both amazed and grateful for her father's intuition. She carefully slid back into the wheelchair with a lit up face as she stared at the man who was responsible for giving her the best childhood she could ever have asked for. "How did you know?"

His chuckle was music to her ears. "For as long as I can remember, you've always had that look."

"What look?"

"The look that says you need some time to process things in your head first. You've always been rational, Spence. And it's that simple pause, just allowing yourself some time to think things through that's had your back for so many years. It's really a quality to be proud of."

Spencer felt her heart skip a beat at the compliment, amused at how parental pride – especially from her father – would always make her want to be a better person.

"There's been a few exceptions, like laughing right at Ash about the fishing rods, but you spared her the embarrassment by not saying it out loud. It's small things like that, when you consider other people's feelings first, that makes you so very special, Spence."

She didn't feel all that special about laughing right in her wife's face, but the curve of her lips did threaten upwards at the memory of Ashley's blunder. "Am I a bad person for still wanting to giggle like crazy about it?"

Relief settled on her shoulders as her father chuckled again. "Well, it _was_ quite funny. I'm sure Ash would have laughed _with_ us by now – you know she'd forgive you in a heartbeat."

"Yeah, she would…" Spencer sighed, thinking of her pillar of strength right outside the door. Her heart fluttered and suddenly all she wanted to do was wrap Ashley up in her arms and never let go.

"Everything okay between the two of you?"

"Mom really hurt her, dad. And even if Ash says it doesn't matter, it does. I hate it when she just brushes things off, as if her own feelings don't count."

"Tell me what happened?"

Spencer's heart ached painfully as she recounted everything that's happened in just two days. But given her father's situation, the restaurant incident almost felt ages ago despite how much it still hurt to think about it. And it wasn't only that – it was also how she reacted afterward, hurting Ashley even more in the process. She didn't want to accept that her wife would just always forgive her in a heartbeat. Not at her own expense.

"Did you know that Mom never wanted to go to our wedding?"

Spencer wanted to study her father's features, figure out the whole truth behind it all, but even if he did know, how could she ever be mad at him? Would it even matter?

Her gaze dropped to the floor in shame, feeling silly for caring about things that were so trivial now.

"I didn't know, no. She was hesitant when Ash asked for your hand in marriage, but she never said anything. Where does this come from, Spence?"

The fact that her father wasn't even remotely aware made her feel a tad bit better. "That's what she said on Friday - and Ash knew about it all this time."

"Spence…"

"I know," Spencer shook it off, ashamed of herself for feeling hurt and disappointment towards her wife when she found out.

"Ashley is very protective of you, that won't ever change, and it's something I've always liked about her because I know you'll always be taken care of. Don't forget how she feels about you, okay? And don't forget to show her that you appreciate her, Spence. If I could ever give you a last piece of advice; let Ash know that you love her, as much and as often as you can."

It was hard to hear her father offer a _last_ bit of advice, dunking her straight back into their somber reality. It wasn't as if his words flew right over her head; she just couldn't focus on anything other than the fact that she was losing her _father_.

That very painful fact just intensified majestically as her mother and Glen joined her in her father's room, followed by who she now knew as Doctor Brown.

Her chest tightened rapidly, fearing what this joint visit meant.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your time together," Doctor Brown apologized, gesturing for Paula and Glen to step closer to her father's bed. "But I have to discuss some things with all of you together, as a family."

Spencer's eyes met her father's, then Glen's, and sucked in her breath, trying not to fall apart this time as they offered supportive nods. She didn't dare look at her mother, knowing it would only break her if she saw the void she'd most likely find.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but as you all already know, Arthur was originally diagnosed with liver cirrhosis. We found out very late, so late, in fact, that it's turned cancerous. This too was too late; at stage four it has metastasized ruling out any possibilities of transplants and his body has been rejecting all treatments we've tried. At this very moment," Doctor Brown took a deep breath, visibly pained to deliver the Carlin father his death sentence.

Spencer squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the rest, but she already _knew_ what the verdict was. She'd just hoped _so_ hard that if the doctor postponed his speech, there was still time.

Apparently there wasn't.

"There's already an onset of organ failure. There's very little time before things go really bad, and I know it sounds absolutely terrible, but I would advise that you start saying your final goodbyes."

There were loud sobs, this time not only from herself, but also from her father, Glen, and her mother.

Spencer looked at her family in despair, begging in their shocked silence that someone would say something. _Anything_.

She just wanted them to console each other and forget about all the hurt in the past; hyper aware of the ticking clock for her father.

It felt surreal.

And it happened so quick.

One moment she was embraced by her weakening father, hugging him in return, crying all over him, telling him she loved him and took care to listen to his voice, to hear it one last time as he told her how much he loved his beautiful girl and her wife.

Then it was all over. There were tears, her mother cried, Glen cried, _she_ cried. Blue scrubs blurred past them while white coats blended completely into the scene.

They were escorted out and someone so very familiar and comforting embraced her.

Someone else asked if she was okay.

Glen followed in hiccuped tears as she was taken back to her room, never letting go of her hand.

* * *

There wasn't any need for oxygen masks or emergency injections or medication. There wasn't any need to strain her ears and wait for the imminent ragged breathing and feel tensed muscles or find nails digging into her skin.

The rollercoaster of emotions didn't come from the person she'd expected – instead, she found the sudden onset of denial and anger and hurt and calm all so very confusing to _herself_.

She never felt any of those _all at the same time_ when her own father passed away. Denial, yes, and probably for a while, and it was so easy, because she hardly ever saw him. It was easy to trick her mind into another year of simple absence, as if he _would_ appear on her next birthday. But he never did, _unable_ to, and that's when she got angry and it hurt the most.

With Arthur it was so different.

Ashley knew it was probably because he was such a constant in her life, spending time in reality and in her thoughts and dreams with her and Spencer. And as she sat now, staring at the two remaining Carlin siblings, she recognized the faint trace of _peace_ within her too.

Perhaps it was because for the first time in years, brother and sister were on speaking terms, occasionally even smiling at each other despite the incredibly sad circumstances.

Ashley watched them carefully; Spencer sat propped up against pillows, the backend of her bed raised, her face just slightly pale but nothing compared to when she had anxiety attacks. There was still an IV stuck in her arm, but it wasn't long before she could get her wife out of the depressing room, depressing hospital, depressing city.

Glen had made himself comfortable right next to Spencer - on her bed - sitting in the spot Ashley would much rather have wanted to be, but she'd never take this away from her beloved blonde or brother-in-law.

They desperately needed each other right now, and it was remarkable how their company soothed a smidge of each other's pain.

Spencer was reminding Glen how he reminded her of their dad just out of principle; males, father and son.

Glen joked that Spencer was right there on that list with him, 'wearing the pants in the house.'

Ashley couldn't stop the unladylike snort or the tears that followed.

Two sets of blue eyes immediately trailed over to her, and not surprising at all - because it was just who Spencer was - the devastated girl opened her arms, inviting Ashley over for a consolation hug.

She took it.

For a second she felt bad about it but when Spencer's arms folded around Ashley, she knew her pain was as valid as the Carlin siblings'.

Arthur Carlin was very much her father too, after all.

* * *

"Can I get you anything? Some water? Something to eat? Alcohol?"

"Ash…" Spencer smiled, mostly endearing but with some hint of sadness clouding her features. She stopped brushing her hair and reached out, her hand grazing Ashley's arm while her wife applied eyeliner to red-rimmed eyes.

Ashley stopped for a second to catch Spencer's reflection in the large vanity mirror fixed against their hotel bathroom wall, only able to offer a half-smile in return. She had no idea how Spencer was keeping so calm and collected knowing they were getting ready to attend her father's _funeral_.

In comparison, Ashley was a complete mess, and it showed; for once in her life, she couldn't bury the pain behind tight-lipped smiles and sarcasm.

"Can I get _you_ anything?" Spencer countered, her fingers gently folding around Ashley's wrist to stop her from finishing up for a minute.

Ashley shook her head and closed her eyes briefly, swallowing down all the emotions threatening to bubble up. She always thought she could get through anything, be Spencer's rock through anything, but Arthur's passing was just proof once again that she did not do death well. She didn't have the inclination to shut down like when her own father passed away, or run like she'd done when Clay passed away. She just didn't know how to process this kind of pain – it wasn't something she could just block out and ignore like she did with any other painful situation back when she was a teenager.

"It's okay to cry, Ash," Spencer's soft voice broke through her barriers, finally allowing the tears to ruin her makeup. Ashley hiccuped and forced herself to breathe through her nose, but then Spencer engulfed her in a tight hug and the scent of her wife and the comfort it promised just _broke_ her.

"Oh, Ash," Spencer cooed, another piece of her heart shattering into tiny little shards when she felt her strong wife sobbing in her arms. It wasn't a usual occurrence – she could count on her one hand how many times Ashley broke down like this since they've met.

Spencer let Ashley cry it out in her arms and once the sobs subsided, led them out of the bathroom to the L-shaped couch, faltering in her steps for just a second when she thought she saw her father seated there, waiting with a smile and coffee like he did just a week ago.

She couldn't wait to get out of LA.

Once she had Ashley sat down she rummaged around in earnest, plopping down next to her wife out of breath just a short while later with sparkling wine and two champagne flutes in her hands. She felt it only fair to indulge in a little bit of alcohol _with_ her wife, instead of getting an out with fluoxetine that would easily take all _her_ pain away and leave Ashley to suffer alone.

Ashley wiped at her tears and eyed Spencer carefully as she popped the cork and poured haphazardly, not even caring that she was making a mess.

"Sparkling wine?" Perhaps Spencer wasn't as calm and collected as she thought.

"There's no other alcoholic drinks. I don't know why we have _this_ ," Spencer raised the bottle together with a raised eyebrow, "but maybe it's a sign. Let's celebrate."

Ashley's jaw went slack and all her sadness went out the door, replaced with deep concern for Spencer.

"His _life_ , Ash. Let's celebrate my dad's life. It's what he would have wanted. He had a good life, and we were blessed to have him in ours. I've had him for thirty years – and it wasn't thirty years of crying. He gave me thirty years of happiness. So let's celebrate what he gave us," Spencer explained, forcing a smile through her own escalating heartache.

Ashley could finally hear the sadness seep through Spencer's voice, and suddenly it didn't matter _what_ kind of alcohol they had, she just desperately needed _something_ to take the edge off. They had less than an hour to finish up before their cab would arrive, and who knew how things were going to go from there.

"Are you sure you don't rather want to take a–"

"No. No medication today - or at least not now. This is for us, and my dad. Shall we?"

* * *

Sadly, the overpriced twelve percent sparkling wine did _nothing_ to soothe their nerves once the cab came to a halt to let them out.

Ashley stared at the majestic building in front of her, feeling slightly intimidated by its tall bell tower, brown old stone, and high arched stained windows.

Even more intimidating was the vast amount of people attending Arthur's funeral. There were hordes of faces she didn't recognize, and then there were family and friends - some of whom she'd only met twice; at Glen's and at her own wedding.

"Spencer, darling, how are you holding up?"

It was devastating that in the Carlin family, parents seemed to bury their children, instead of the other way around.

"Grandma," Spencer breathed out, her voice betraying both the joy and sadness at seeing her father's mother.

Ashley watched her wife bend down and throw herself into her grandmother's arms, all the while shedding happy tears at seeing her family.

"Ashley, it's good to see you again, despite the circumstances," Robert Carlin smiled sadly, letting go of his mother's wheelchair to embrace her in a supportive hug.

Ashley wished more than anything that Spencer could have taken her medication and let _her_ have the entire bottle of bubbly instead. It was far too sobering to be enveloped with love by Arthur's side of the family. Acceptance was never an issue with the Carlins, and it saddened Ashley that she had to steel herself a little when cold, blue eyes bore into her from across the parking lot.

She didn't exactly belong to a religion and hardly gave second thought to any belief system, but right now all she could do was pray and hope to be heard in her plea that Paula Carlin would grant her daughter the opportunity to grieve in peace.

"Ashley, dear, come here."

Agatha Carlin had all the qualities of a grandmother Ashley had only ever seen in movies. When she hugged the frail white-haired woman her eyes immediately started burning with tears as she listened with a broken heart how much Arthur Carlin valued and adored her.

"My son was an extraordinary judge of character. He knew from the start you were his little girl's hero, helping her find her feet. And look at you, so strong and keeping that girl together. You need anything, you let me know, okay?"

Ashley wasn't so sure that Arthur's good judgment was all there when he met Paula, but as a result there was Spencer, and she could never deny how grateful she was that she'd crossed paths with the Carlins.

"Let's get you inside, ma. Girls, we'll chat later?" Robert suggested as the party started moving inside.

"Yeah, we'll catch up after," Spencer offered, linking arms with Ashley.

"Are you ready?" she asked softly, wiping a stray tear from Ashley's cheek.

She wasn't trying to hide her pain, but the tight-lipped smile and sarcasm was all Ashley could offer to keep the nerves at bay.

"Are we even allowed in there?"

Spencer chuckled and offered Ashley some Kleenex for the highly likely heartbreaking service.

"If you're referring to our _sinful_ lifestyle as a gay couple," Spencer sighed with a dramatic flair, "then yes. My dad was Protestant. We're not being judged here. If anything, we may just combust because of our disrespect by being highly intoxicated."

Ashley's eyes went wide for all kinds of reasons. "Wait, so this is _not_ a Catholic church? How come you were forced to attend-"

The warning look Spencer gave her was answer enough. Of course Paula Carlin always got what Paula Carlin wanted.

"Spence…" The second question was hushed in alarm and mild amusement. "Are you _drunk_?"

Spencer chuckled again, this time with flushed cheeks. "I may or may not feel slightly tipsy. But I'll be okay, Ash, I promise. It's better than not feeling anything at all."

* * *

While Ashley sobered up the moment they got to the church, Spencer finally felt her high plummeting drastically when James Taylor's _Never Die Young_ started up over the sound system; just subtle enough to make out the words if she listened carefully.

Her thoughts were all over the place; she tried to remember how they got from disagreeing to everything pertaining to the church service, to Glen getting his way with the opening song.

She wanted something more depressingly _formal_ while their mother wanted nothing at all.

But sitting in the front row, staring at the blown up portrait of her father's smiling face, she could easily fool herself into believing that he was smiling because Glen knew how much he loved the award-winning musician's melodies.

She was well aware of that fact too, but in their upbringing of strict church rules and rituals, she would never in a million years have imagined that something like this would be allowed. It was welcoming, however, and something inside her stirred deeply as she let the music sink in, knowing she'd forever associate the particular song with her father's funeral, but also, in honor of his life.

"Let us pray."

Ashley felt incredibly lost while Spencer was off in her own world. Holding on tightly to her wife's hand, she lowered her head like everyone else, eyes squeezed shut, sending up her own prayer that she'd hear the pastor say _Amen_ and not to embarrass herself - or Spencer - for not knowing how all of this really worked.

She'd never done this before - funerals and church services were never really her family's thing. She didn't even get to have a burial for her father - they held a party as memorial service on a high rooftop and scattered his ashes over the Sunset Strip in LA. That very night she found out she had a half-sister, interrupting the grieving process that never really reached finality after all this time.

She wished it could have been different. She wished, despite her father's wishes to celebrate with a party instead of a service, that there could have been something formal like this, something better for her to hold on to - even if it was painstaking to sit here and not know what to expect or do.

Somewhere in the back a baby cried, and she wondered after all of this, if they'd _ever_ get there. Would she and Spencer ever be in a service and quiet down their own crying baby, giggling about it afterward? Would they have a toddler whispering innocent questions while the pastor preached and prayed, unaware that they were supposed to be quiet and listening?

She was slightly amused when she heard Glen gently tell Antonio next to her that they were praying for his grandfather who was now up in heaven. The toddler wasn't happy with such a vague answer but a firm _Shh_ had him quiet until the pastor said _Amen_.

"In the Book of Psalms, David declares, the Lord is my shepherd…"

Ashley watched as Spencer opened the program and pointed towards the scripture the pastor was talking about, feeling relief wash over her at Spencer's intuition and understanding. She listened intently, trying to pay as much attention as her drifting mind would allow.

It wasn't long before the pastor concluded his sermon and announced they'd be singing two hymns, confusing Ashley when the entire congregation stood up to do so.

Spencer held out her hand and waited until Ashley followed suit, smiling fondly at her wife's uncertainty but devoting willingness to do this with her. She flipped through the pages of the provided traditional hymn book until she found the back-to-back songs, her heart skipping a beat when Ashley's hand rested on top of hers to stop her from turning the page.

Spencer chanced a glance at Ashley as the nominated organist started with the first melodic intro, pride and reverence welling up in her as she watched her wife scan over the notation, probably playing out the melody in her head in order to sing along flawlessly.

And flawless it was; despite the utterly sad circumstances, nothing in the world could better take her away to a happier place than Ashley's voice. Hearing her wife sing, following each staccato and legato as if she'd written the songs herself, Spencer was completely mesmerized and if she could, she'd just stand there for the rest of the day and make Ashley belt out every song in that book.

Only when they finished _Amazing Grace_ and Ashley smiled at her with renewed confidence as they sat back down, did Spencer realize the service was about to reach its most heartbreaking part.

She'd been okay so far; she'd been so distracted by everything that's gone down so smoothly and with _feeling_ \- something she'd been equally afraid of experiencing _and_ missing - that she only noticed her discomfort when the figure on her left stiffened at the word _eulogies_.

Confusion washed over her for a second as she forced herself back into the harsh reality of where she was.

Paula Carlin _freaked_ when she found out Arthur had written several letters and wished it to be read out loud at his memorial service. It was also in his final wishes that his family didn't read their own tributes to him - instead, a heartfelt letter from each of his children was left in his coffin to be buried with him.

Spencer remembered the disbelief on her mother's face when the funeral director informed them of the news. There was no way out of it and nothing Paula Carlin could do to avoid the sob-fest. Spencer knew her mother wanted the service to run like surgery; clinical and to the point, exactly one hour in duration and strictly family only at the burial site.

She was thankful that for once, Glen put his foot down towards Paula's _BS_. Her brother's been amazing since she'd been discharged from hospital. From fruitlessly offering them the pool house at their luxury home, to invitations to surprisingly delicious home-cooked meals and checking in constantly with Ashley over Spencer's wellbeing, there was a shift in their relationship that she duly appreciated. She had no idea how she would have coped with the aftermath of her father's passing if Glen still showed the same animosity her mother did.

 _It's almost over_ , she promised herself, reminded by a gentle squeeze to her right hand that her pillar of support wasn't going anywhere.

Except up to the pulpit, where the pastor smiled and welcomed Ashley as she nervously made her way forward.

Spencer was shocked for a moment, unaware of such arrangements - not that she minded - Ashley was just always so full of surprises.

Next to her, Glen and Antonio swapped places, and a second later her brother scooted closer on the pew, taking Ashley's place to offer her support.

Spencer knew Glen needed the support too; the grief was so evident on his face, in his eyes, in his movements, and it saddened her all over again that to her left, her mother still sat stiffened - unconcerned that her children were practically falling apart right next to her.

"A-Arthur-" Ashley had to clear her throat a couple of times to stop the tears from falling. Glen was kind enough to prepare her during the week for this moment, but she wasn't ready to read the letter out loud that Arthur had written to Spencer. Her wife had been so strong and fought so hard to smile through the pain the past week and she knew she was about to take all that effort and throw it down the drain again.

It was Glen's swift slide towards Spencer that gave her enough encouragement to push through.

"Arthur sure had a lot of confidence in me to get me up here today…"

The quiet chuckle from the congregation had her own shoulders sag in relief a little - not enough to take away the visible shake in her hands, but at least enough to take the next deep breath and read the first paragraph.

It was _so_ like Arthur to make light of any difficult situation, having the family in joyful tears as they listened with smiles how he experienced fatherhood with a girl in the house. Ashley kept wiping at her own tears as she read sentence after sentence depicting year after year, her heart swelling with love and pride as she thought of the incredible father-daughter relationship Arthur and Spencer shared.

It was when Arthur mentioned _family_ and _sticking together_ and _forgiveness_ that she stumbled over the words a little, wishing more than ever that of all the families in the world, the Carlin-family wasn't the one that fell apart so drastically.

She finished off with the entire church - even _Paula_ \- in tears, and stepped down quickly to take a seat next to Glen as Madison made her way forward.

The letters from her father were devastating but equally heart-wrenchingly beautiful. Spencer was surprised that her dad had chosen her grandma Mary to read her mother's letter, but realized whatever unpleasantries had been going on between her parents must have been so for a lot longer than she could ever have suspected. Part of her was curious but mostly she just wanted to ignore that a huge part of her life and what she was made to believe in was a big lie.

Spencer glanced sideways towards Ashley who'd resumed her place next to her, fingers intertwined tightly; her heart slowly starting to constrict little by little, introducing that all too familiar tightness she'd experienced far too many times in the short span of eight days.

She didn't ever want her own children to be faced with similar situations where they grew up to learn about love and the importance of family only for it to never be true. She found it so heartbreaking that both herself and Ashley had to endure this, and wondered fleetingly if their own experiences would teach them not to make the same mistakes.

She also wondered, that after all of this, if Ashley would even still _want_ to have a family with her.

She was barely the model child of a perfect family with perfect family values anymore. That reality had flown out the door when her mother chose her career and then another man over her husband and children. Was this in her blood? Was she going to turn out the same way? Was she going to do this to Ashley one day? Was she going to destroy the one person who loved her so fiercely and unconditionally?

"...Sip of water? I've got your meds right here, baby, just say the word."

The bench was empty to her left, but to her right, two sets of concerned brown eyes focused intently on her.

"Ash…" Her voice failed her, the sounds escaping her lips sounding strangled and so far away. Her face heated up in shame, and Spencer found herself squeezing her eyes shut, unable to look around to see who'd witnessed her embarrassing episode.

"It's just us, baby, you're okay. Everything's going to be okay, Spence," Ashley cooed, pulling her into a reassuring hug.

Her head felt foggy and she worried her bottom lip, confused about her surroundings. The church had emptied out save for Ashley, Madison and herself, and panic started clawing at her insides for a second time as her brain raced to figure out how she'd missed the rest of the service.

"No, just breathe, Spence. Deep breaths. Follow my lead," Ashley instructed sternly, literally feeling how Spencer tensed up again in her arms.

Despite her own racing heart, she took a couple of deep breaths, letting it out slowly until Spencer caught on and mimicked her actions.

"She okay?" Hurried footsteps shuffled down the middle aisle, muted enough by the brown paisley carpets to keep the breathing exercises going without interruption. Only when Glen paused next to them, his hand gently on her shoulder, did Spencer finally pull away with enough confidence to breathe calmly on her own.

"Spence?"

She felt incredibly lost, but offered a brave smile anyway.

"I've sent the kids off with mom so you guys can catch a ride with us. Do you rather want stay here for a bit? Or go directly to the house?"

The thought of her childhood home - or last of her teenage years anyway - didn't hold the same sentiment it did just a week ago anymore. She couldn't bear the emptiness and lack of her father's belongings, his _presence_ , in what used to be her safe place. "No… I'm okay to attend the burial. Let's just get this all over and done with."

Spencer didn't feel the need to swallow down her medication to keep calm, her emotions all over the place but yet, more in control than it had felt all day.

The worst was over now.

She was ready to go back to Seattle. _Home_.

* * *

The darkest hour wasn't the funeral. It wasn't the goodbyes, or the tears at the airport. It wasn't the flight or even returning home.

It was the morning _after_ , when Spencer just never got out of bed, simply rolling over away from her open arms to stare off into nothingness.

She didn't even sit up after the promise of the tastiest cup of coffee ever; not after a successful attempt at beating Two Spoons Cafe's full English breakfast, or even after Ashley offered to sit with her through a full day marathon studying behind-the-scene clips of all their favorite movies – and there were _plenty_ – neither when she offered to be beat at board games and be at Spencer's beck and call for as long as she needed.

Ashley had sympathy and understanding the Monday when Spencer didn't get up or go to work, even after missing a week's worth of meetings and project updates. She gave Spencer space the Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and even Friday, diligently cooking and cleaning after she got home from the studio, ensuring laundry was done and her side of the bed was semi-made.

Spencer never slacked on self care and personal hygiene, and Ashley, despite concern etching slowly into her veins, was grateful that at least _that_ hadn't gone down the drain with her wife's very obvious onset of depression. If anything, she was grasping towards any positive signs, and Spencer getting out of bed to at least look after herself was in her eyes, a small victory.

Yet, it wasn't enough to get from that small victory to the next. There was still just a shell left of the woman she loved so dearly, and she was terrified that the empty look in Spencer's eyes would become permanent.

One week turned into a scary fourth, and before Spencer knew it, another Friday rolled by, promising a fresh start to everyone _but_ her as the sun rose, summer rays peaking through a sliver of their dark bedroom curtains.

She turned quietly, the built-up sleep in her eyes protesting as she forced herself to stare blearily at Ashley's peaceful features. Guilt gnawed at her insides. She'd been a handful to deal with – she knew that much – not getting out of bed, not even cooking for her wife who got up every day despite also hurting, not even ensuring Ashley had clean laundry. She was failing the very person who was still by her side, who, when they exchanged vows and said "I do", kept her promise so conscientiously to be there for better or worse, through sickness and health.

If anything, the world could learn a thing or two from Ashley Davies.

Her mother – now known as just _Paula_ – in particular.

The fifty-something surgeon had no idea what it took to be loyal, to compromise, to support. Part of Spencer felt especially angry that her mother even had children to begin with, when it was so evident now that they just never fit into her life plan.

While at the age of thirty she could already not remember intricate detail of her childhood anymore, Spencer struggled even more to remember her moth- _Paula's_ involvement in her life. Other than trying to change her and hating her for who she loved, Spencer had a hard time recalling _good_ times.

There were certainly an abundance of incredible memories with her father when she grew up, but in the state she was, Paula had little chance of earning Mother-of-the-Year mugs any time soon.

The more she tried to stop focusing on what felt like _millions_ of shortcomings in her mother, the more that was the _only_ thing she could concentrate on.

Spencer remembered the night Paula found her making out with Ashley, the three words that ultimately made her feel like her mother would never look at her or love her the same forever hidden deep in a dark corner of her heart. _You disgust me_ should have been the sign all along that all these years after, every smile and every hug and every _I love you_ was just a facade.

That very next morning she was also told that she was sick. And then that loving Ashley was just out of spite because Paula's career was too demanding.

The amount of times her heart took these beatings quietly over the years most likely added up to a staggering figure. She couldn't remember any gesture of _genuine_ affection from Paula since she came out, no matter how hard she tried. Had she been _that_ naïve to just never have _realized_ it before?

Had she been so caught up in her own world that she never even realized she'd lost her mother over ten years ago?

It was a sobering thought and for the first time in weeks, Spencer felt the bitterness disappear; replaced with a kind of pain that clutched at her heart and left her breathless and in tears.

It wasn't an anxiety attack.

She was _hurting,_ _so_ bad, helplessly wondering if she'd ever be okay again.

* * *

The tears, despite painful to witness, was the next small victory.

The void in her wife's eyes had been replaced with desperation; a call for help, a silent cry to be hugged and held, a plead to take that horrible pain away.

Ashley knew she could never take the pain away – she _still_ felt the ache of losing her own father every day – but with Spencer standing at the bottom of the steps of their basement studio, eyes wide and cheeks tear streaked, there was a flicker of hope that they could get past this.

She had no idea what prompted her earlier that morning to work from home; she had no idea what finally lifted that block of creativity or allowing her to at least play something on the piano – or any instrument at all; she had no idea why she was putting her all into _Can't help falling in love_ – their wedding song – her voice rough and her fingers stiff over the keys; but pausing midway to stare at Spencer staring right back at her, eyes shiny with tears but an expression so full of hope and love _despite_ the pain, she knew that things would get better.

Spencer was next to her on the piano bench within seconds, cupping her cheeks with strong hands, bringing their lips together.

"I love you," Spencer finally whispered hoarsely, her throat raw from crying.

She quickly cleared her throat and repeated the words she knew her wife absolutely _needed_ to hear, each time finishing off with a kiss. The more her heart started beating again, the more Ashley cried along with her.

She still had her wife. She still had the person who'd been fighting for her and fighting with her since the tender age of sixteen. She still had that tremendous ache in her heart, but the one constant she so desperately needed to help soothe the sting, was right beside her. Loving her even during her darkest hour.

Maybe she was going to be okay.


	6. Acceptance

**A/N: And finally… I can take a deep breath and close this chapter :)**

 **ToriDub – CH5: I still owe you a pm, and a story, and last chapters to finish off stories that you've been an absolute fantastic reader of. Thank you so much for all the support and encouragement, and hopefully you've read the last update by now – if not, here's the final so you can read them all in one go ;) And don't swipe away my e-mail notifications – you're gonna miss Ghost! ;P Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!**

 **dnmann – CH5: Thank you! This one is a lot lighter but so needed, I hope the chapter did the story justice! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!**

 **Guest – CH5: Thank you so much! This is the last chapter for this particular story, but yes, there is another fic or two coming ;) One is actually overdue so keep on checking for new updates ;) Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **Guest – CH5: Wow, thank you! It means a lot that you reviewed and I hope the last chapter doesn't disappoint! Please keep checking the updates on SoN, there will be more fics coming ;) Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

 **Thank you to each and every reader, whether you reviewed or not; this platform has not only helped to reignite a passion I've had for writing all my life, but also to put it out there and sometimes even tell a story with a bit of your own life mixed into it has been an amazing experience and outlet. For those following Ghost of an Angel, the epilogue will be up later tonight, and yes, the start of two other fics will follow!**

* * *

 **Acceptance**

She failed to find comfort in the spacious business class seats merely because of the direction Wandering Airlines was taking off in.

A familiar face smiled down at her, offering a brown paper bag and to help let her seat down - not out of pity, but encouragement to get some much needed rest.

The slightest blush tinted Spencer's cheeks at the apparent evidence that she hadn't been sleeping. "I'm okay, thank you. I'll take some water, though."

Spencer glanced at Ashley and checked for any signs of discomfort or clamminess. Her stomach dropped at the realization that her unusually quiet wife was fighting hard to calm her nerves.

"And a ginger ale for my wife?"

Understanding dawned on the older redhead's face, a smile forming on her lips as she happily handed over the requested items, _including_ a brown paper bag. "Just let me know if you need anything. They say it helps to try and sleep while up in the air. If that doesn't work, we have bland crackers to snack on. Also, keep her hydrated."

Spencer returned the smile, grateful for any and _all_ advice. She swallowed down the ache of having to go through this without any parental support with a fluoxetine and a sip of water, determined to focus her attention solely on Ashley.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Ashley opened her eyes to stare blearily at Spencer. Her stomach fluttered at all the love and attention she was receiving. She felt a little undeserving at times and especially now, knowing where they were headed, guilt set in for not being able to offer much support to Spencer.

There was another flutter when Spencer's hand reached out to tuck away stray hair and gently cupped her pale cheek. She wished her wife wouldn't be so damn tender and caring _all_ the time - all that loving fluttering was just increasing her queasiness.

"Sleep," was all she managed to whimper. At least if she managed to drift off, she knew Spencer would do so eventually too. They both desperately needed sleep after the long night they've had. After the _year_ they've had.

"Okay. Do you want to let your seat down? And a blanket?"

Ashley grimaced at the thought of reflux and shook her head. All she needed was the comfort of Spencer's presence; grabbing onto her wife's closest hand she sweetly kissed each knuckle. "I've got everything I need… right here."

* * *

LA was exactly the same as they left it a year ago; unforgiving and busy, currently accompanied by hostility and dread. It was also more impersonal now that the only friendly faces left were siblings and their respective families.

Spencer took a deep breath as they stepped off the jet bridge into the short terminal towards the luggage area, nervous but equally somewhat excited this time around.

She may have lost her parents, but having Glen back in her life meant everything to her. While they haven't been able to travel to see each other, _Skype_ had been a favorite alternative. Even text messages would have sated her given the radio silence between them for so many years. Seeing her brother's face at least once a week had calmed the incessant panic she felt when self-doubt set in. Without her family and what it meant to _be_ a family, she more often than not felt that she was going to fail her wife going forward.

"You okay?"

If she hadn't been jittery before, she definitely was now. There was no looming panic – for the time being – just a hint of nervousness of seeing Glen and Madison again, and definitely _Kyla_ , knowing she was responsible for the unpleasant symptoms the Davies sister was currently experiencing.

Ashley gave Spencer's hand a tight squeeze of support, knowing all too well what was going on in her absent-minded wife's head. She felt nervous herself; breaking the news over the phone was so much easier than meeting up in person and repeating the phrase that still had her heart fluttering in disbelief.

She didn't doubt for a second that Spencer was also slightly terrified of running into Paula, despite every effort Glen and Madison had gone through to ensure the older Carlin wasn't remotely aware of their planned visit to LA.

The conversation had come up once or twice about informing Christine about the news as well, but like Spencer, Ashley didn't exactly feel like this was something she wanted to share with someone who hated her very existence.

"Let me grab a luggage cart, you wait here, okay?" Spencer replied instead, her hand firm in the small of Ashley's back.

Though her question was left unanswered, the lingering concern vanished and Ashley could only smile with unfaltering pride.

Spencer had no idea just how ready she was for this.

* * *

"So, we stocked the fridge, and Ash, I made sure to get you some dry crackers and light snacks if you can't stomach full meals. Just try to eat as much as you can throughout the day; don't avoid food because of the nausea, okay?"

It was painful not to bicker and insult her ex best friend. Every time Madison opened her mouth, Ashley was ready to hit back with something quirky or insolent, but then her sort-of sister-in-law surprised her with generosity and much appreciated advice that left her with a lump in her throat and unwanted emotions she was sure was pure hormonal.

She'd never been such a softy before, and she blamed Spencer entirely.

"And rest as much as you feel you need to. Dinner's only at six, so we'll give you guys some privacy until then. Unless you want to join in for lunch with the kids when they come home from school?"

"We'll see how Ashley feels, thank you so much for your hospitality, Mads."

Ashley tuned out after that, settling on the comfortable queen sized bed while Spencer saw Madison out. She felt guilty for being unsociably exhausted but was assured constantly that it was all part of pregnancy. She couldn't remember ever feeling this way back in high school, but so many things were different now; she was more of appropriate age to be pregnant to start with, and more and _most_ important, she had Spencer, who–

–And the nauseating flutter returned as the bed dipped next to her, a soft, warm hand gently resting on what looked like the consequence of an overindulged rich pasta meal.

"I look fat," she mumbled, eyes still closed. "That's what people think when they see me – like I've gone on some emotional eating spree since they last saw us."

The light chuckle next to her didn't take away the butterflies at all. And as much as she'd secretly get a small kick out of vomiting all over Madison's poolhouse furniture and bed sheets, she was still divided about how she felt about the way Spencer made her feel.

The queasiness was unbearable whenever she felt that distinct flutter, but her heart sent different signals to her brain – the right kind of signals – reminding her that she _wanted_ this. _They_ wanted this.

Ashley snuck a peek at Spencer and couldn't help the way her breath caught in her throat and her heart possibly ceased beating for a moment.

It was becoming a frequent occurrence, seeing her wife in such wonderment, completely unaware that she was on her own little planet admiring her bloated-looking stomach.

If anything, Ashley wanted _more_ of these moments, despite the queasiness it caused. There was a distinct calmness radiating off Spencer, as if their little creation grounded her. In a way, it probably did – it was Spencer's egg in there after all. There was a connection between the blonde and the 12-week fetus – a conversation, an _understanding_.

The fascination was unfathomable; as if after all this time, all the preparation and medical procedures they've gone through was still not enough to make it all feel _real_. Fingers splaying carefully under her loose shirt, Ashley revelled in the way Spencer nervously traced mindless patterns, inconspicuously trying to feel and entice _Peanut._

Ashley watched carefully as Spencer's stiffened body heaved slightly as she took careful breaths, unaware that she too was being admired while marveling at her wife and unborn child.

She dared not even smile, not even _twitch_ , unwilling to pull Spencer from her reverence. It was a fine line between hormones and unconditional love, the way she could hardly breathe herself while staring at the woman who'd been the center of her universe for so many years.

The soft smile broke through in spite of her attempts not to ruin the moment.

Wide blue eyes instantly met hers, brows raised in awe, and Ashley felt another hitch in her breath, teleported back fifteen years when those same blue eyes were naïve and _innocent_ and _untouched_ by the world's cruelties.

"How did I ever get so lucky?" she choked out, moving quickly to cover Spencer's hand before she could remove it.

"I ask myself that same question every day," Spencer swallowed hard, her heart in her throat. She didn't mean to get so lost in thought, so lost in _happiness_ as her fingers glided softly over skin that still heated her _own_ to dangerous temperatures.

"Come here," Ashley beckoned, opening her arms for her wife to cuddle into her. She'd happily swallow down the nausea for a while in exchange for closeness with the person she definitely wanted to grow old with.

Spencer scurried into her arms and Ashley felt _different_ hormones flare up. It was about time; after a month of Spencer's donor and hormone treatment and three months of herself being pregnant and feeling anything _but_ sexy, nothing could ever feel as good as tender intimacy with her wife.

Never mind contaminating Madison's poolhouse bed sheets with vomit; like naughty teenagers they consummated their love for each other until it was time to get ready for dinner.

* * *

"Ash, you're absolutely _glowing_! Congratulations!"

Spencer choked a little on her wine as their eyes met over Kyla's shoulder, the impish smile on Ashley's face reminding her just how much her wife had been _glowing_ not too long ago.

"And you," Kyla turned around, pulling Spencer into a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you. You're going to be a great mother, Spence. _Both_ of you."

Despite all the compliments and wonderful things people have said thus far, Kyla's words caught her completely off guard, dousing her into instant panic as the word _mother_ registered in her brain. Spencer's mouth went completely dry and her eyes sought out her wife's, needing just _some_ sort of affirmation that Kyla's words carried weight to it.

The confirmation came in the form of another strange trigger; a light hug and a soft kiss to her temple. "It's true. Dad would be so proud," Glen reassured her with a beaming smile.

Unexpected tears welled up in Spencer's eyes, a familiar feeling tightening in her chest as all eyes were on her.

It was Ashley who came to the rescue, flinging a protective arm around her shoulder to guide her away from their siblings and the uncomfortable attention.

She was so very utterly unprepared for this. The last panic attack was just over a year ago, when she sat in church and missed the eulogies read to her late father. They'd gone through so much; returning home to deal with the aftermath of her father's death and losing her mother, severe depression, months of uncertainty about still wanting to bring a baby into the world, and then actually _going_ _through_ with it. Not once, during all that time, did she feel that unmistakable grip to her heart. Spencer couldn't understand why, after all that emotional pressure, she'd feel the panic _now_ while she _should_ be ecstatic about their family surrounding them and supporting them. She couldn't understand why, _at all_.

"Hey… Spence, hey, look at me," Ashley cooed with concern. She sat Spencer down on a stool at the kitchen counter, running her hands up and down Spencer's arms in an attempt to bring her back to the present.

"I can't – I can't do this, Ash. I'm going to be a bad mother – what if I'm just like – "

Ashley grabbed Spencer's hands in hers, squeezing tightly until her wife dug her nails into her palms, trying to channel the nervous energy away from the pressure in her chest. "Look at me, Spence," she demanded sternly, waiting for the stormy blue orbs to focus on her.

"You are _not_ her, okay? You are _Spencer Davies_. You are your own person. You are _my_ person. You're _Peanut's_ person."

The words didn't entirely register, but Ashley could feel Spencer's death grip easing, her fingers starting to move, clenching and unclenching – a subtle sign that she could ask the questions Spencer's therapist had suggested she do.

"Spence… hey…"

Her own heart clenched tightly as she witnessed the despair on her wife's face, _begging_ her to make the panic stop.

"What did you hear?" She unclasped a hand and softly cupped Spencer's cheek, thumb gently wiping at the constant flow of tears. "What did you feel?"

Spencer let out a pained sob, the panic subsiding quickly to make way for a terrible ache that still left her feeling _broken_. "Glen…" she hiccupped, closing her eyes against the memory of his simple embrace. It was something her father used to do, and Glen seemed to have perfected that fatherly gesture to the T.

Ashley frowned, racking her brain to figure out what Glen could have done to trigger the panic attack. She knew Kyla's comment about motherhood started it, but Glen did something – _oh_. The hug. The kiss on Spencer's temple. If she closed her eyes she could so easily see Arthur in his place.

"Oh, Spence," Ashley whispered, tears welling up in her own eyes. She pulled Spencer into her arms and held on tightly, wishing she could learn and understand more how _any_ traumatic events now seemed to affect her wife. She knew Spencer would be dependent on her therapist for a long while to come.

"I'm sorry," Spencer sniffed guiltily, hating herself for what she was putting Ashley through. She didn't want her wife to think that she wouldn't be able to rely on her, especially through the pregnancy and when their baby was born. She hated that the smallest thing had such an adverse effect on her.

"It's okay, Spence, you never have to apologize for this, okay?" Ashley reassured her, holding on tighter. "I've got you, baby. I'll always have your back."

"Hey… is everything okay?"

Spencer squeezed her eyes shut against Ashley's shoulder while her wife nodded to her brother. "Yeah, it's just been a bit emotional. It's been quite a year."

"I get that," Glen agreed softly. "It's not been easy. But we've got each other, right?"

"Of course," Ashley confirmed, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. This she could do. She thrived in being a rock to the people close to her.

Perhaps she was more ready for motherhood than she had thought, too.

* * *

The wait was torture.

They'd promised to give the Carlin siblings an hour, and agreed with each other to add another half an hour just in case.

Ashley envied her wife and brother-in-law just a little for having this; getting to commemorate their father even if he wasn't _physically_ on earth anymore.

Though she _still_ didn't do death well, and struggled _really_ hard to stick around in the parking lot of the morbid graveyard, she'd agreed with Madison to do this, for her wife and Glen.

It was a good idea, after all – though she'd _never_ admit it out loud.

"This doesn't make us friends," Ashley finally breathed out, breaking the silence. She could do with some bantering to lift her own mood.

"Like I'd _want_ to be friends with the skank who turned my most promising cheerleader gay," Madison scoffed, a small smile playing at the edge of her lips.

Ashley chuckled inwardly, remembering how upset she was when Madison first blamed her for _turning_ Spencer gay. But their friendship – though failed – was rooted deep enough to laugh about the ridiculous memories now. "You're just jealous because I liked _Spencer_ that way instead of _you_."

Madison was the first to break. Her face lit up as she laughed, and in a surprise turn of events, stepped closer to engulf Ashley in a tight hug. "You know you're always welcome at our house, right? And if you need anything, advice or just to let off steam, I'm here, okay? And so is Glen. I know it's not been easy for you guys."

She cursed Spencer for this; the hormones and _endless_ _tears_.

"It gets better, though, okay? You guys are strong together – you've conquered so much, Ash. In six months you'll understand what it's all about. You're going to be such a beautiful family – you already _are_. You have no idea how much we all look up to you."

" _Stop_ ," Ashley begged through the tears, her heart aching for all the right reasons. "You didn't have to reduce me to tears, you know. I would have accepted your friend request on _Facebook_ without the emotional blackmail."

Madison chuckled and finally pulled away, offering her some tissues. "Shall we go check on them?"

"Yeah, let's see if they're okay. I'm starving, anyway."

They grabbed some items from Glen's SUV and bickered until they were a few feet away from what she deemed the most important grave in the cemetery. Silence encased them and Ashley tried to listen to a conversation not privy to their ears, but there was nothing.

Just two siblings sitting in comfort, tear-streaked faces telltale signs that they've already cried it out.

"We don't mean to intrude…" Ashley's voice broke as she regarded her wife. Suddenly she knew this was definitely the right thing to do; Madison _really_ started to surprise her.

Spencer frowned when her eyes landed on the items in Ashley and Madison's hands. Ashley had a disassembled fishing rod haphazardly cradled under her arm while her knuckles were white clutching a sleeping bag. Her other hand held a picnic basket and something smelled fishy in all ways possible.

Madison carried a picnic basket as well. And a backpack belonging to Spencer's nephew. A Barbie head stuck out through the broken zipper.

"We couldn't find any flowers," Ashley said in all seriousness.

Madison snorted with an arched eyebrow towards their surroundings; hundreds of graves completely _covered_ in flora.

But the thought behind their gesture stuck, and Spencer felt her eyes well up once again. She thought she'd talked and cried it all out, but the sight of her wife and what she had in her hands opened the floodgates.

"You're amazing," Spencer hiccuped, jumping up to embrace her wife in a tight hug.

Ashley shrugged and smiled softly towards her friend. "It was Madison's idea. We thought we could have a picnic and share some cool memories of adventures with the epic _Mister C_."

* * *

It felt eerie and far too embarrassing to sit on her own and share her thoughts with Arthur aloud, but once Spencer, Glen and Madison made their way back to the parking lot, the mixture of feelings settled quickly. With her hand resting on her stomach, Ashley swallowed hard, allowing herself to feel the loss of parents in her life for the first time in a very long time.

"I really miss you, Arthur. And I wish you were here to meet Peanut. You should have seen Spence's face when we went for the first ultrasound last week. We heard Peanut's heartbeat and Spence was so in awe – I think sometimes it hasn't truly sunk in for her yet. Maybe that I'm pregnant, but definitely not that it's part of _her_ that's growing inside me."

The treacherous tears were back and Ashley wiped hastily, laughing at herself when she realized no one was around to see her cry. "She's been so great, looking after me and making me feel good about myself – I'm sure you'd laugh if you knew how stupid I feel looking fat more than anything else. But we've been told from here on out things go very quickly. So… I don't know – maybe we'll be able to check in again before Peanut arrives? I don't even know when I'm not allowed to fly anymore. God… I feel so lost sometimes. It's hard, not having my mom, or even _Paula_ close by just for support. Just to tell us what happens next, you know?"

There was a peculiar ache in her heart, one she knew Spencer also felt whenever the topic of _parents_ came up. She'd never missed her mother as bad as she did lately. Sometimes she wondered if Christine would even pick up the phone if she tried calling her. She did when they got married – even though their polite invitation got declined.

"I don't know what to do… I want to phone her _so_ badly. But I'm so scared. It's not that she doesn't like Spence – I promise. She just doesn't like _me_. And it _kills_ me, you know, to know that Spence is going through the same thing. If it was just me it would have been okay, but Spence… she doesn't deserve this. You raised such a beautiful daughter, Arthur. And I'm so, _so_ grateful to have her in my life."

The tears turned into sobs and soon she could hardly see in front of herself anymore. "I know I promised before that I'd look after her, but I just want you to know again, that I'll always make sure Spencer is okay. And Peanut, too. I promise you they'll both be looked after, and that Peanut will never go through what we've been through. But I need you to promise me that you'll always be here… that I can come here and talk to you, because you're the closest I've left of any parent."

Her words died in her throat, her hand reaching out to trace the engraved letters on the ivy-decorated headstone. It grounded her a little to feel the physical connection even if she knew Arthur wasn't there anymore. It was enough to know that she could come back and talk to him whenever she needed to.

* * *

"Spence, where are you going? Can't we get out of here, please?" Ashley begged, exhausted and fragile after her time alone at Arthur's grave.

Spencer faced her wife, extremely concerned, but knew that even though Ashley was at breakpoint, she'd appreciate what she was about to show her. If anything, she hoped she knew her wife well enough to know that Ashley needed this more than anything else.

"Just one minute, please? I promise we can do anything after this; if you want to go lie down or want a massage or _anything_ – _whatever_ you want," Spencer pleaded. She felt guilty and quite exhausted herself, but she knew if only Ashley would spare her a second, it would be well worth it.

" _Fine_ ," Ashley huffed, taking a deep breath to keep her emotions in check. As much as she felt emotional, she knew her fuse was equally short sometimes. The last thing they needed right now was senseless fighting over something silly at a _cemetery_.

There was a clearing not too far from the entrance of the parking lot, sporting a beautifully curved memorial wall situated atop curved-styled cobblestones. The section was well-kept; green grass freshly mowed and several benches scattered around to make visitors feel more at ease.

Ashley didn't understand why Spencer was dragging her off to the wall, unable to think of anyone other than Arthur who may have been buried in the vicinity.

Spencer took her hand and squeezed gently as they came to a halt at the far right side at an identical square – the same as all the others on the wall – engraved and filled neatly with the Purple Venom logo and memorial details of– _Raife Davies?_

It felt like her heart had stopped, pausing time and everything around her, allowing her absolute solitude to raise her free hand and touch the wall, touch the engraving, touch the _memory_ of her _father_. Like Arthur's grave, the physical memory of his existence gave her the opportunity to feel connected somehow. As if the spirit of her father rested within the neat square.

Ashley's mouth opened and closed, her heart restarted, and her eyes welled up faster than she could react.

She turned to face her wife, unable to form any coherent sentence as she tried to digest this incredible gesture.

It's been a long, emotional day. She never thought it could ever become _more_ so. But in a _good_ way.

"You did this?" Ashley finally choked out, her heart pounding hard against her chest walls. Part of her wanted to grab Spencer and kiss her until she couldn't breathe anymore. The other part wanted to break down and cry.

It's been _too_ long a day.

"Is it okay?" Spencer asked softly, unsure about the detail that had gone into her father-in-law's memorial square. It had taken days to figure out how to keep it simple but give it enough meaning for Ashley to want to visit the wall the same way she wanted to visit her father's grave. It had taken her _all year_ just to decide whether it was _actually_ a good idea.

"Is it _okay_? Spence, this… I – I don't know what to say. I – " Ashley frowned, her head feeling a mess, her _emotions_ a mess as she tried to articulate what she felt. She let out a shaky breath and pulled her wife into her arms, instantly wetting Spencer's neck as the tears came down tenfold. "I can't believe you did this – you have _no_ idea how much this means to me, Spence."

"I just wanted you to have something to hold onto too," Spencer admitted with a teary smile. She pulled away and moved behind Ashley, covering her wife's left hand over her stomach, while with her right hand, took Ashley's and rested it against the cool marble square.

"Raife, this is Peanut. Just a day shy of twelve weeks old, two inches tall, and a heartbeat that sounds as beautiful as your daughter's voice."

Ashley's knees went weak, her heart about to burst from her chest.

"We promise to visit as often as we can. But in the meantime, we've got something for you," Spencer continued, removing her hand from the wall for a short moment to fish something out of her jean pocket.

Ashley's eyes followed Spencer's every move, and when she recognized the folded copy of a very particular type of photograph, completely black with white lines and highlights across, _Peanut's_ head right in the middle, a soft sob escaped her throat.

The moment was equally painful as it was special. She never knew how bad she wanted this until Spencer made it possible for her. She never realized, even though she pushed through every day since she was just eight years old, how important her own parents were in her life until she was about to become one herself.

She hated and missed Christine all the same. And she resented but cherished the memory she had of the little time she got to spend with her father similarly. She felt significant anger towards Paula Carlin, but the deepest appreciation towards Arthur, who stepped in and played all the roles the other adults failed to do. It was unfair to him, but she loved him even more for doing it so selflessly.

In a way, what felt like utter failures from their parents was what had Ashley believe with renewed confidence that they would be extra careful not to hurt their own child the same way. There was no doubt that they would do _other_ things wrong, and probably _continuously_ , but if she'd learned one thing from life, was that all children ever wanted, was to know they were loved.

And she would damn well make sure that _Peanut_ , _and_ Spencer, knew that.

* * *

 **To my wife : Thank you for being my absolute rock for seven years. Happy Anniversary**.


End file.
